The Mentalist: Red Lace
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Season 1 AU. Lisbon finds an inspired way to bring Jane out of his depression after his reunion with Sophie Miller. Friendship/romance/farce. Rated T/M for language and Jisbony sexytimes. No copyright infringement intended.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story takes place mid-season 1, shortly after "Red Brick and Ivy." (You know, the one where his old psychiatrist calls for his help?) I thought I'd wait until we get a little more into season 4 before I wrote anything more current, so, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this bit of romantic fluff.

**Red Lace**

**Chapter 1**

It had been a week since Lisbon had seen Jane kiss Sophie Miller's cheek, and she couldn't get the touching image out of her mind. She didn't know why; it was just a peck. But afterward, he'd seemed so sad, and his subsequent bout of depression had gone on a little longer than just a day or two. It hadn't helped that they hadn't had a case to divert him this week.

Jane's smiles lately had been rare, and he spent a lot of time on his couch. Sometimes he would disappear to God-knew-where for hours at a time, returning as unexpectedly as he'd left, looking even more rumpled and haggard than usual. She suspected he was napping outside on the ground somewhere like a homeless person, for once she'd seen dried grass on the back of his vest and tangled in his burnished gold curls. It didn't take a detective to note that his morose mood had begun right after he'd said good-bye to his former psychiatrist.

Sophie Miller's re-entry into Jane's life had brought back that horrible time after his family had been murdered to the fore, but Lisbon suspected that was only part of his problem. Jane had obviously developed deep feelings for the woman who'd brought him back from the edge of despair. The way he looked at her was unlike Lisbon had seen him look at any woman for all the years she'd known him.

_That's what Jane looks like when he's smitten, _Lisbon thought in wonder.

He'd seemed strangely unsure of himself with Sophie, almost like a little boy with his first crush. It was sweet and even endearing, but ultimately very sad, for like a little boy, he seemed helpless to do anything about it. This is what had been tormenting Lisbon for days.

Patrick Jane needed a woman in his life, and not just in the workplace as a mother figure, keeping him in line. He was lonely, and a feminine influence would go a long way toward easing his suffering, of that Lisbon had no doubt. But in order for that ever to happen, he needed to ease up on his self-flagellation and open himself up to the possibility of pursuing someone new. He just needed a little push.

She looked over at the man in question, who at that moment was lying asleep on her office couch, which he did sometimes when the noise of the bullpen became too bothersome. She didn't mind, and she felt he did it because he enjoyed her companionship. It certainly couldn't be because of her notoriously uncomfortable couch. This just reaffirmed in Lisbon's mind that she was correct in her assessment of the reason behind his depression. Patrick Jane was lonely.

He shifted a little and turned away from the couch cushion so she could clearly see his face. _I mean, look at him,_ mused Lisbon to herself. _What woman wouldn't want this man? He's as beautiful and tragic as a fallen angel._

That particular characterization was so far from the truth that Lisbon nearly laughed aloud at her own thoughts.

"That hurts, you know," said the deceptively beatific figure on her couch.

Her heart lurched in startle, immediately thinking (as she often did) that he could really read her mind.

"Huh?" she managed lamely.

"The hole you're boring into my head with the laser beams of your eyes."

A ghost of his old grin appeared and he sat up abruptly, swinging his feet to the floor and looking at her slightly flushed face.

"How did you know I was even looking at you?" she asked, regaining her composure through the guise of irritation.

He tapped his temple with one deft finger. "I know all and see all, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, oh Great Carnac, for what reason could I possibly be staring at you?"

He started to say something flip, but then he changed his mind and grew serious, his blue-green eyes alighting on hers with quiet intensity. "You don't have to worry about me, Lisbon. I'm okay, really."

Lisbon swallowed over the unexpected lump in her throat. She decided to dive in and level with him. _They were friends, right? Friends could be honest with each other._

"I _am _worried. Ever since Sophie Miller—"

He held up a forestalling hand. "It's not that."

She wasn't convinced. "She stirred up some things for you, though, didn't she? That's why you've been so down this past week."

"Perhaps," he said, his eyes sliding away from hers. It was unlike him to give away his discomfort like that. She'd hit it squarely on the head; he only needed to admit it.

"Then what is it?"

He shrugged, his gaze returning to hers. "I don't know, Lisbon. Everyone gets down in the dumps now and then. Despite what some may think, I _am_ only human after all." She grinned and shook her head at his at once both egotistical and self-effacing statement.

"You're right. I have no reason to worry about someone whose confidence and self-esteem are so firmly in place. Now, just go back to your psychologically healthy slumber of avoidance." She waved a hand dismissively.

"No need to be snippy, Lisbon. I do appreciate your concern, truly."

She looked at him a moment, debating whether to tell him what she'd really been thinking.

"You need a woman in your life," she told him matter-of-factly.

It was a rare thing to see Patrick Jane taken off guard, and if she hadn't felt so badly for him, she might have found satisfaction in his surprised expression.

"What-?"

"It's true," she plowed on, "I think it's about time you jumped into the dating pool again. You're obviously depressed and lonely, and a new love interest might be just the thing to bring you out of it."

She'd never stepped this far into his personal business, ever. It was scary and acutely uncomfortable for both of them. But she was honestly worried for his mental health, and sometimes one had to take drastic measures to save someone from drowning. Jane was quick to recover his wits, and he immediately hid his discomfort with his trademark grin.

"But I already have you, Lisbon," he said charmingly.

"You know what I mean."

He visibly shifted gears, sitting back against the couch, hands laced casually behind his head. "All right, Dr. Lisbon. What are you proposing here? Say, you think I could find true love on Watt Avenue this Saturday night?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting." She sighed in frustration. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. I don't know why I waste my time worrying about you. Wallow in your misery for all I care." She resolutely focused on her computer screen, and they both grew silent.

"I'm not ready yet, Teresa," he said, so softly she was at first unsure he'd said anything at all. He sounded so painfully lost she felt compelled to get up from her desk and join him on the couch, where he was hanging his head, worrying his wedding ring with his right hand.

"It's been over five years, Jane. Long ago, women cast off their widow's weeds after a year of mourning. There was a reason for that. Do you really think your wife would want you to be alone after all this time?"

"My wife's dead, Lisbon. She doesn't think anything anymore."

She wasn't going to get into a theological discussion with him over that point.

"You say you're not ready, but I think what you really mean is you're not ready to stop punishing yourself."

He didn't deny it, or get angry with her for butting into his business, two reactions he might have had had she proposed this idea a week ago. This was a sign to Lisbon that she was on the right track, that maybe he was beginning to see that he actually needed her help. He lifted dull eyes to hers, looking more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him.

"Would it hurt to give it a try?" she encouraged quietly. "Just drinks with a woman, or maybe even lunch? I mean, you gotta eat anyway, right?"

His lips quirked in wry amusement. "Suppose I said yes. You have someone in mind?"

She smiled gently. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Naturally. Anyone I know?"

"No. But she'd be perfect for you. Intelligent, funny, likes to read and do puzzles…"

"Wait, don't tell me—she has a _great personality_." His sarcasm didn't daunt her.

"I swear, she's not some homely spinster with a dozen cats. She's actually very beautiful—a willowy blonde."

He looked blatantly suspicious. "What's wrong with her? If she's such a good catch, Lisbon, why hasn't she been…caught?"

"Well…her fiancé died in a car accident two years ago…"

He laughed for the first time in days, though it was a bitter sound. "Geez, Lisbon, that oughta cheer me up! I can see it now—we'd spend half the date discussing which phase of grief we were on, the other half commiserating over the high costs of funeral expenses. That sounds like a great time. Thanks, but no thanks."

"She's not like that. She's not wallowing in self pity. She's ready to get back out on the dating scene, but I can tell she's a little afraid to dip her toe in again. You'd be good for each other, because you both understand what it's like to lose someone, how hard it is to let go of the past."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"No. Come on. One drink, no pressure. Just to put yourself back out there a little. Please? It would go a long way toward easing my worry for you."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way," came his sardonic rejoinder. She knew it was hard for him to say no to her when she directly asked a favor. He was quiet a moment, and Lisbon was pleased to see he might actually be considering it. He sighed and leaned again against the back of the couch.

"Fine."

"What? Really?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "Yes. On one condition."

It was her turn to be suspicious. "What condition?"

"You let me do the same for you."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. I mean, if you're gonna sit there and play Dolly Levi, you'd better take a good long look at your _own_ love life, or lack thereof."

"This is about you, Jane, not me," she said evasively. "I'm not the one who's been sleeping in parks or moping around like someone kicked my dog. I'm trying to save you from yourself. Besides, I'm too busy to have a love life."

"Ha." He may as well have said _bullshit._

"Ha?"

"Ha," he reiterated. "How long has it been since you had a real date yourself, Lisbon? And your monthly booty call from Accounting doesn't uh, count." He grinned at his own pun, and it widened even further as he watched her face contort in horror.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She rose and moved back behind the safety of her desk.

"Besides," he continued almost gleefully. "I believe he got married about six months ago, so that avenue is now a dead end. Time you got back in the saddle again too, don't ya think?"

"Fine, Jane. Forget the whole thing. If you're not going to take this seriously…"

"Oh, but I am," he maintained. "As a matter of fact, this whole idea of yours has really piqued my interest. I feel myself pulling out of my depression just at the very thought of it. Thank you, Lisbon, for coming up with this inspired idea. Now, let me see…what kind of man would appeal to Teresa Lisbon?"

"I said we could forget about it. It was a stupid idea. You're probably not really ready after all. It was insensitive of me to suggest it."

He ignored her. "He'd have to be someone with a keen mind, obviously. And he'd have to have a sense of humor—those cute dimples of yours aren't just for decoration, after all. He can't be intimidated by you, that's the most important trait."

"Jane," she nearly growled.

"You know I'm right, Lisbon. You can be a little overbearing at times, admit it. He'd have to be good in the sack, too, if Mr. Accounting's reputation is any indication of what you go for."He ignored her gasp of embarrassed outrage.

"Wait"—he snapped his fingers—"I know just the guy!"

"Get out of my office." Her murderous expression only encouraged him.

"It's settled then. I'll be happy to date Miss Lonely Hearts, if you go out with the special guy I choose for you."

Lisbon was literally heaving with anger that he'd make such a mockery of her sincere desire to help him. Clearly he was hoping to get her so riled up she'd forget about fixing him up and leave him to his self-imposed celibacy. As this thought occurred to her, the light bulb suddenly went on in her head, and her fury faded away. She'd been caught in his web of reverse psychology. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she decided she'd call his bluff. Jane saw her expression and couldn't help cringing almost imperceptively. He was so busted.

"Deal," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, scrambling for a way out of the hole he'd dug. "Because a minute ago you didn't seem so sure about all this."

"Yep, deal. And to make it more interesting, I think it should be a double date, just to watch each other's backs, you understand." There was no way she'd let him stand up her friend, and she wanted him there to face her if he purposefully set her up with a dud.

"But Lisbon, I really don't think that's neces—"

"Of course it is. You might think of this as a game, but there are two other people who might get hurt over this, people with real feelings. I admit I don't have much of a social life myself, so maybe you're right. It might be good for me to have a night on the town for a change…good for both of us." 

"A night on the town?" he protested. "I thought you just said drinks."

"I've changed my mind. If you hadn't been out of commission for so long, you might remember that's a woman's prerogative. So, you get with this guy friend of yours and I'll arrange everything else."

He gulped. "When?"

"Saturday night, depending on my friend's schedule. Unless you have other plans for Watts Avenue," she said archly.

He didn't respond.

"Jane?"

"Okay," he said, a hint of stubbornness in his soft acquiescence. She knew he was still trying to figure a way to get out of this.

"Good. I'll let you know the details. Now, get out of my office and do something constructive for a change."

He rose as if in a daze, and Lisbon nearly smiled at his discomposure. When he got to the door, she couldn't resist adding one more order.

"Oh, and Jane?"

He paused, looking at her with familiar puppy dog eyes to which by now she had become completely immune.

"Wear a tie."

His eyebrows went up comically, and she managed to stifle her laugh until he quietly shut the door behind him.

A/N: Yes, I know this wouldn't happen in a million years, but I needed something light and fluffy to work on until I decided how/whether to continue my season three AU into the current season four. Please take it for the fluff it is, and by all means let me know what you think. Oh, and I promise to get to those review replies for my episode tag asap (thanks, for those, by the way!)

Next chapter will focus on Jane's point of view.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for your welcoming reviews of this story! This chapter has a little angst sprinkled in, because I didn't want to gloss over the emotions Jane would feel on a first date, but I hope the light conversation makes up for it. It's a little on the long side; hope you don't mind…**

**Chapter 2**

Jane had to get out of there, had to breathe some fresh air. He didn't bother with the slow elevator, but took the steps down the two flights, walked quickly through the busy lobby of the CBI building, and pushed open the door into the late autumn day. He didn't even wave to the man in the security booth, but walked on through the gate and onto the sidewalk. It was a good thing they were used to his erratic comings and goings. A couple of blocks down the street, and he felt like he could think again.

He was going on a date—a _double _date-with Lisbon and some woman he didn't know from Eve. Plus, he had to come up with a guy for her. He'd been totally bluffing about knowing someone that even came close to being good enough for Teresa Lisbon. _Shit_. He was totally off his game lately, and he owed it all to the manipulation a week ago by Sophie Miller. _Sophie._ Still beautiful, still able to push his buttons like no other woman had before or since. She'd been his savior, his angel of mercy, had literally saved his life. He had no doubt that, had he not committed himself for that brief time, he would have ended it all. He'd come out of her care, damaged though relatively sane, and more than a little in love with his psychiatrist. Classic transference. He shook his head at himself. He'd known full well what was happening but had been too vulnerable and powerless to stop it.

So when he'd heard her voice on the phone, begging him to help her, he'd jumped without question. He might have even let her get away with murder, so in debt did he feel to her. And that kiss Lisbon had witnessed—it might have been much more than a peck on the cheek had he had the balls to move his lips just an inch or two to the left. Sophie had been just as affected by his kiss as he had; he was sure of it when he'd pulled away and looked into her dazed blue eyes.

But Jane knew in his heart it would be disastrous to pursue these feelings, despite the mutual attraction that was heavy between them. Sophie Miller was too tied up with his past, too wrapped up with his complicated emotions about his wife and Red John and his feelings of guilt. So he'd let her go a second time, and he'd been reeling ever since. He'd almost called her once or twice, just to hear her calm, reassuring voice, but he'd pulled himself together and let her go, just as he had five years before.

One thing he'd gotten from the experience, however, was confirmation that he could still have romantic inclinations toward a living woman. So when Lisbon had suggested he started dating again, at first he'd felt the faint stirrings of hope, but terror quickly quashed that emotion, and he was back to seeking avoidance of the issue altogether. It had gotten easier, not more difficult over the years to deny himself sexually, and now he totally understood the commitment of priests and monks, though, of course, his denial came not from any sort of religious vigor. It was punishment, just like Lisbon had said.

He could go back to Lisbon's office, confess to his weakness and fear—she would understand—but he couldn't bear to see the disappointment and pity in her eyes. _What was one date?_ He asked himself. He knew how to turn on the charm, be casual, get through a good meal with not one, but _two_ beautiful women. It wouldn't hurt him to be friendly for an evening, and he knew that maybe it would get Lisbon to back off on this strange new quest of hers.

"I can do this," he said aloud, stopping at the corner across the street from the park he'd frequented more than usual lately. He smiled self-consciously as a woman looked askance at his sudden outburst. "Use the crosswalk," he clarified. "I'm normally a horrible j-walker."

"Right," she said, amused, an appreciative glint in her eye.

_See, _he said, to himself this time. _Women still find me charming. What was one date? _

The light turned and he crossed the street, resigned to going on this blasted date for Lisbon's sake. But now he had to figure out what he was going to do about finding a date for the petite brunette who was getting way too good at figuring out his tricks…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Saturday Night_

Jane must have tied and re-tied his tie five times before he was satisfied. He'd brushed off his most expensive suit from the back of his closet, awkwardly ironed his best dress shirt with the extended stay motel's complimentary iron, and slicked back his hair in a vain effort to tame it. Hell, he'd even shaved. Finally, Jane looked in the mirror on the closet door, only to be confronted by the vision of his former fake psychic persona. He turned away, clutching his chest as a wave of panic overtook him. His phone appeared as if by magic in his hand, and he very nearly called Lisbon to cancel this fiasco. He breathed deeply until the feeling passed, but he avoided looking in the mirror again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon had chosen a cozy Italian restaurant, known for its romantic, curtained booths. Jane pulled into the parking lot of the converted Victorian and got out of his Citroen, pocketing his keys with a feeling akin to doom. The foursome would be meeting there, the reservation under Lisbon's name. He stepped inside the fine establishment, his eyes adjusting to the dimness of candlelight, the soft tinkling of a live piano adding to the ambiance. Couples danced in the dark on a small dance floor near the piano, so closely that they looked like one entity as they swayed sensually to the music. Jane felt an instant of panic again, but then his eyes focused on a smiling Lisbon, sitting alone in a booth for four, and instantly he felt calmer.

The hostess led him to her and he couldn't help grinning at how beautiful she looked. Her cocktail dress was simple and black, held up by tiny spaghetti straps. She wore her hair in a bun, high on her head, thin curly wisps floating around her neck and at her temples. One look into her shining green eyes, and the last vestiges of his earlier panic attack melted away.

"Where's my date?" he asked, taking a seat across from her. He ordered a club soda from the waitress.

"She's running late," said Lisbon. She took a sip of her red wine and nodded at his attire. "Nice tie."

He smirked. "Thanks. You're looking exceptionally lovely this evening. I'm sure your date will be impressed."

"Speaking of which…"

"Don't worry; he'll be here soon. Saturday night traffic can be a bear."

"Uh-huh," she responded skeptically.

"Hey, _your_ friend is late too, and I'm not judging."

She smiled. "Fair enough. So, tell me about…Clive, was it?"

"Yeah, Clive. Like I told you, he works in the prosecutor's office. Very smart, spiffy dresser. I know you're gonna like him."

"I don't know a Clive from the State's Attorney's office."  
>"He's new," Jane explained casually.<p>

"How do you know him?"

"He used to be in private practice. I uh, retained his services once upon a time."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry.

"So, if you were to describe your friend Amy in one word, what would it be?" asked Jane, feigning curiosity.

Lisbon thought a moment, used to Jane's off-the-wall questions. At least he didn't ask what animal she reminded Lisbon of. "Driven," she said finally.

"Ah."

"What does that mean?"

"Just, ah. You admire her, don't you?"

"Yes. She's very accomplished. It takes a lot of dedication to run your own successful business."

"What kind of business did you say?"

She smirked. "She has a lingerie boutique. But don't let that taint your opinion."

"Lisbon, how could that possible taint my opinion? I'm sure she's quite respectable."

"See, that's what I'm talking about. Lingerie is not just about crotchless panties and peak-a-boo bras you know."

He chuckled. "What kind of lingerie stores do _you_ frequent, Lisbon? Crotchless panties, indeed."

She blushed. "You know what I'm trying to say. Just because Amy owns a lingerie shop doesn't mean she's a loose woman or anything."

"I didn't think that at all, but now that you mentioned it…"

"Oh, shut up." The waitress dropped off Jane's soda and four menus, and inquired after their missing guests.

"They're running late, I'm afraid," responded Jane. "Give us a bit, will you?" He gave her the special smile he only reserved for those he planned to swindle later. She left with a slightly stunned expression; Jane's smiles could be deadly on the uninitiated.

"So how is it you know Amy?" he asked her, barely missing a beat.

Lisbon hid her expression behind a sip of wine. Jane laughed. "You met her in her boutique, didn't you? That's nothing to be embarrassed about, Lisbon. Lingerie is not just about crotchless panties and peak-a-boo bras, you know."

She gave him a dirty look and picked up her menu.

"By the way," Jane ventured, perusing the extensive list of pasta dishes. "I've seen enough movies and sitcoms to guess how this double date might go."

"Oh? Do tell," she encouraged, bemused.

"Well, it could be that neither of our dates will like us, but our dates will like each other."

She raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't stop his little analysis. Jane on a roll didn't need much encouragement.

"Or…one of us will like our date a little too much, but the other will be insanely jealous of the match, and try to sabotage it."

"Well, I certainly don't see that happening."

He shrugged. "You never know, Lisbon. And then again, there is, of course, option three."

"Option three?"

"Yes. We don't like either of our dates and realize that we were meant to be together ourselves, that this whole double blind date thing was just a ruse to hide our true feelings for each other."

She looked startled by this possibility, and when her eyes met his over their menus, his were sparkling with mischief. He was teasing her, and once again, she'd fallen for it.

"Or," she countered. "You're forgetting option number four."

"Which is-?"  
>"We both like our dates, have a great time, fall madly in love, and have a double wedding a year later."<p>

He gave her his sunniest smile. "Aww…so it's romance novels for you, eh? Or is it chick flicks?"

She grinned in return. "Maybe a little of both."

Just then, a man, escorted by the hostess, arrived at their table. Lisbon looked up at him with a gratifying drop of her jaw. He was stunningly gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome. She awkwardly got to her feet as Jane made the introductions, and Jane tried to tamp down the strange disappointment he'd felt when their lively conversation had been interrupted. Clive gave his drink order—vodka tonic—and took his place beside Lisbon at the booth.

"Sorry for my tardiness," Clive began, with a hint of an intriguing Irish lilt, "It couldn't be helped, I'm afraid. So, Patrick tells me you are a CBI agent, Teresa. Not only that, but a team leader? Impressive."

Lisbon blushed a little, already taken in by the man's pleasant charm. "Thank you. Yeah. It can be challenging at times. But I work with good people."

He turned chocolate brown eyes toward Jane. "Must be a really big challenge working with Patrick here. He's got that dog with a bone mentality, eh?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, that pretty well describes Jane. Have you known each other long?"

"Yes, we go way back. Back to his old fake psychic days."

"Oh really?" Lisbon's interest was piqued and she looked from Jane to her date in anticipation. "Jane said you were his attorney once."

Clive laughed softly. "Yes, you could say that."

Jane cleared his throat, not liking the path the conversation was taking.

"Tell her about your work in the SA's office," Jane said, steering things toward a much safer topic. They passed the next five minutes small talking about the state of the California legal system these days, and Lisbon seemed content with Clive's company. Jane, however, felt his mood growing darker and darker with each flirty chuckle his companions directed at one another. That is, until his own date arrived.

Amy was indeed tall and willowy—Jane's exact height without the high heels, and a good two inches taller with them on. Both men rose politely and Lisbon made introductions all around. Jane took Amy's damp hand to help her slide into the booth; she was nervous too, and Jane felt a rush of empathy. Lisbon had said this was her first date since her fiancé died. Her bright blue eyes met his with unspoken gratitude and mutual understanding. He gave her his most genuine smile.

To say Amy was beautiful was an understatement. She had a very refined quality, with classic, Grace Kelly features, honey blonde hair framing her alabaster complexion in a short style that few women could pull off. She wore a dress as dark blue as sapphires, an old-fashioned pearl choker setting off her long, pale neck. She could very easily be a fashion model. Jane might be unready for a relationship, but he wasn't dead—he appreciated true beauty when he saw it. And then she opened her mouth, and her soft, deep-southern drawl nearly did both men in.

"You're originally from Mississippi, aren't you?" Jane asked, an expert on accents, of course.

"Yes, very good. Teresa said you were very observant."

"Part of the job," he shrugged, in an unusual display of modesty. Lisbon snorted into her hand, covering it with a soft cough.

"Don't let him fool you," commented Lisbon. "Jane helps solve more cases for Serious Crimes than any other unit."

"Thanks to my fearless team leader," Jane said, raising his glass in salute before drinking. Lisbon and Jane smiled at each other, humor and mutual admiration warring for dominance in their eyes. The two others at the table couldn't help but notice the easy chemistry between them.

"Teresa tells me you have your own business, and that she's a frequent customer."

"Jane—" Lisbon said in low warning.

Amy laughed. "She's very fond of red lace," she said mischievously. Jane was sure Lisbon kicked her friend a little under the table. He grinned widely, liking Amy already, and not just for her good looks.

"What?" asked Clive. "What kind of business?"

"Lingerie," Amy said. "I have a boutique just down the street from the Capitol building."

Clive chuckled. "Bet you have a lot of congressmen doing repeat business there—one for the wife, one for the mistress."

Everyone laughed. "Mostly for the mistress," Amy disclosed. Jane caught Clive looking at Amy with masculine appreciation.

The conversation flowed from there, as they snacked on bruschetta and waited for their dinners. So far, things were going much like Lisbon had predicted—each of them seemed to like their blind dates.

As they awaited dessert, Clive asked Lisbon to dance. Jane had to grin at their dramatic differences in height. He watched them a moment, Clive laughing at something clever Lisbon must have said.

"We don't have to dance if you don't want to," Amy said softly near his right ear. "Teresa told me that this date might be a little uncomfortable for you."

"No," Jane denied, meaning it now. "Not at all. It would be a shame to waste that beautiful dress by hiding it all night behind a table." He took a small breath, nervous in spite of his increased confidence with the overall situation. "Would you care to?"

She smiled, obviously trying to overcome her own anxiety. "Sure. Why not?"

He helped her to the floor, and she stood over him, making him laugh lightly when he had to look up into her face.

She laughed too, almost playfully. "Here," she offered, toeing off her heals and setting them on the booth's bench. "I guess I don't need to use my height to put you in your place now, do I?"

"No," he grinned, and pulled her gently by the hand to join the other couples who were slow dancing on the smooth wooden floor. "I always know my place where women are concerned."

"And where is that," she asked, sliding into his arms, eyes now even with his.

"Why, directly at their feet, of course."

She looked at him archly, but Jane knew it was an act; he sensed her attraction to him. "Teresa warned me you were too charming for your own good."

"Did she now?" he said in amusement.

He glanced over at his boss, who, at that moment, was turned at just the right angle to see him despite her partner's towering height. For a moment, he enjoyed the way the candlelight lit her face, shimmering off her shiny hair and making her eyes fairly glisten. She smiled at him in encouragement, and for a moment, Jane's heart seemed to skip a beat. She must have misread the stricken look in his eyes, for her brow furrowed and she mouthed: _You okay?_

He nodded once at Lisbon and then forced himself to focus on his date, plastering on a benign grin.

_What the hell was that? _Jane wondered, his mind racing to keep up with his heart. He fell silent a moment, his feet moving automatically as the pianist began singing a soulful version of Billy Joel's "She's Got a Way About Her."

Xxxxxxxxx

The men escorted their dates to their cars, all having agreed to an early evening, none of them wanting to ruin the cocoon of good feelings enveloping them. Jane saw Amy to her white Mercedes convertible, taking one hand in both of his.

"Well," he said, "we did it."

She smiled a bit tremulously. "Yeah. And I gotta say, it wasn't as bad as I feared."

"Gee, thanks," Jane grinned, not offended in the least.

She blushed. "You know what I mean. It was nice meeting you, Patrick. Thank you for the lovely evening."

He squeezed her hand and opened her car door for her, the awkwardness of kissing not even an issue between them. They both knew instinctively neither was even close to being ready for that.

"It was nice meeting you too, Amy. Drive carefully now. Good night."

He watched her drive away, then turned to walk back across the lot to his own car. He paused abruptly when he saw that Lisbon and Clive were still standing and chatting near her car. All at once, her date picked up both her small hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing her knuckles gallantly. Jane couldn't tell for sure, but he knew Lisbon's expressions well enough to predict she was flushing prettily in the darkness. A bereft feeling slammed into him, and he wanted to turn away from the unusual scene of Lisbon enjoying another man's company, another man making her smile and laugh, but he was frozen in place. Against his will he watched how achingly long Clive's mouth lingered on Lisbon's hands, and how obviously she was captivated by the romantic gesture.

Endless moments later, Clive helped her into her car, and she drove away, waving to Jane as she passed him, standing where he stood numbly in the middle of the parking lot. He brought up a hand at the last minute, and his eyes didn't leave her vehicle until well after it had driven out of sight. He walked shakily back to the Citroen, where Clive was patiently waiting for him.

"I think that went well," said the man cheerfully, his voice suddenly sounding less like Dublin and more like Dubuque.

Jane unlocked the passenger side of his car and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out an envelope containing several crisp hundred-dollar bills. He nearly shoved it into Clive's open palm.

"That ends our business, I believe."

Clive pocketed his payment and looked slyly at Jane. "What's with the attitude, man? I believe I just did you a favor. You're lucky I've been living in San Francisco the last six months and it was so easy to track me down."

"I have access to CBI databases, remember? I could have found you in Hell if I'd needed to. And it wasn't a favor, it was a business transaction. This won't be like it used to be—no extended con, no follow-up required. It was a one-time deal; you're not to contact her again. Or me, for that matter."

Clive regarded him curiously, not offended in the least by Jane's standoffishness, though it had been five years since they'd last worked together. He knew, of course, of Jane's tragic past, but what honest emotion Clive had left was reserved for his deep, abiding love for cash.

"Just like old times, eh Patrick? I'd show up at some mark's house with you, claiming to be their dearly departed's secret attorney. We had quite a racquet going there, workin' Malibu's richest old bitties. Things just weren't the same after you left town."

Jane looked upon his former, occasional partner with contempt. He knew it was hypocritical of him, but Clive represented everything about his old self he despised, everything that had led to the murders of his wife and child. Jane wouldn't have called him in a million years if he'd not felt so desperate to find someone suitable for a first date with Lisbon, for, other than his team, Jane hadn't bothered making friends with anyone since he'd joined the CBI.

Clive was one of the best conmen he'd ever worked with, and Jane knew he'd stay in character and could adapt seamlessly to any unforeseen circumstances. He was a professional, just like Jane had been once, and he'd quickly absorbed all the background information he'd fed him about Lisbon to present her with what she'd see as a nearly perfect date.

"You look like you've gone on well enough without me," Jane commented. "But you'll understand why it's impossible for you to ever see Teresa again."

"Oh?"

"She's a cop, remember? It would only take one phone call to find out there's no Clive Edmonds working in the State's Attorney's office. Besides, she's not exactly wealthy, so it would be a total waste of your time."

Clive regarded Jane a moment in mild amusement. "So, that's the way of it, is it?"

"What?" asked Jane, tensing up at the man's sly tone.

"You want the boss lady for yourself. I get it, I get it. She's quite a little firecracker, not to mention a fine piece of a—"

"Don't talk about her that way," Jane growled, sorely tempted to punch the guy. He realized at once that his anger would only confirm Clive's suspicions, so he backed off, trying to bring things back on a more businesslike keel.

Clive laughed. "Settle down, Patrick. But you can't fault a guy for being a little nostalgic here. We used to work well together, and if tonight was any indication, we could pick up right where we left off. I've never taken in more cash than I did when we'd partnered up."

"I don't do that anymore," Jane replied tightly. He held out a dismissive hand for him to shake, officially ending the transaction.

"Thanks for doing this, Clive. But I believe we're done here."

The taller man shook Jane's hand. "Very well, Patrick. See you around sometime."

"No you won't," Jane said, and got into his car without looking back.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was stopped at a red light some fifteen minutes later when his cell phone rang. He fished it from his pocket and was pleased to hear Lisbon's voice.

"Did you get home okay?" he asked her.

"Yes, just. I was wondering how you were doing. You and Amy seemed to hit it off—sometimes at my expense, no less."

Jane grinned. "Red lace, eh?"

"I guess you'll never know, will you?" Her slightly flirtatious tone caught him off guard.

"Amy was very nice, Lisbon," he managed to say, changing that dangerous subject, "but I don't think I'm ready to make it a second date. I hope she's not offended; it was certainly nothing personal."

"You sure? I mean, you both seemed to relax as the night wore on. I think it was good for you."

"Maybe."

"I'm proud of you Jane, for taking this step. I bet it will be easier next time."

Jane wondered silently if there would ever be a next time.

"Thanks, Lisbon," he said simply.

"You're welcome," she said, her warmth reaching out to him across the air waves. "Oh, and thank you for setting me up with Clive. He's a great guy; I underestimated you. As a matter of fact, we're meeting for brunch tomorrow."

"What?" Jane's heart seemed to stop in his chest.

"Yeah. At Tower Café."

At that moment, he had no idea what to say.

"Jane?"

"Uh, yeah. Well, that's nice, Lisbon. You must have enjoyed your date."

"I did. Well, see you Monday. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

"You too, Lisbon."

They hung up and Jane felt his anger so acutely he literally saw red.

"That son-of-a-bitch!"

A/N: I hope this wasn't too predictable or angsty. It didn't turn out as humorous as I would have liked, but I promise to pick up the fluff in the next go-round. Please review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, I had to do something while I was waiting for the new episode, so here's another chapter, making that my third this week. Keep up, will ya?

**Chapter 3**

"You're an idiot," Cho told Jane, grabbing the binoculars right out of his hands and putting them to his dark eyes. They were sitting across the street from the Tower Café in Cho's low-slung, black sportscar, surveiling Lisbon and her brunch date, Clive.

"I know. And I'm also a bastard and a dumbass—or so you said when I pounded on your door an hour ago."

Cho adjusted the magnification and zeroed in on the innocent-looking scene. Lisbon seemed to be enjoying herself, and her companion didn't appear too nefarious, at least from this distance. But did anyone look nefarious eating a spinach omelet?

"Doesn't Rigsby live closer to you?" Cho asked, the closest to annoyed Jane had ever heard the man.

"You mean involve Dudley Do-Right? I don't think so. Guys like you and me know the ways of the world, Cho. The hidden underbelly of evil and corruption."

"Uh-huh," he replied blandly.

"Look," Jane continued, "all we need to do is catch Clive doing something illegal and you can arrest him."

"Nothing illegal about Sunday brunch."

"He wants something from her," Jane countered. "I know it's not her money, so it has to be something else."

Cho lowered the binoculars. "Have you considered confessing to Lisbon? She'd kick his ass. Right after she kicked yours."

"I'd prefer a scenario where my ass is not being kicked."

Cho shrugged. "I'd say that's already a foregone conclusion."

A thought struck Jane. "_You_ could kick _Clive's_ ass. Just threaten to arrest him and run him out of town."

"We're the CBI, not the mafia."

Jane grinned. "An honest mistake."

"I could arrest _you_, though."

"Me? Why?" asked Jane.

"Paying a conman to defraud a state agent. That's the only law I know that's been broken here."

Jane had no argument for that. He held out his hand for his turn with the binoculars.

Jane observed the pair for a few moments in silence. His blood had been at a slow simmer since the night before, and now, as he watched Clive's hand casually resting atop Lisbon's on the table, watched him lean closer to her ear as he shared some amusing tidbit, it went straight up to a rolling boil. His lips formed into a tight line.

"How long you plan on doing this?" Cho asked. "It's laundry day."

"After they finish eating, we'll follow him and see what he does. Tomorrow we can keep an eye on Lisbon at work, but he might be planning to make his move today. He knows it's only a matter of time until Lisbon finds out he's not really with the SA, so whatever he's planning, it has to come together soon. I know this guy, know how he operates."

"I can see now why you'd set up such a sweet guy with the boss," Cho commented dryly. "You could have called _me_ for help. _I_ have friends."

"I think we've established that I'm an idiot," said Jane, lowering the binoculars. "Looks like they're leaving."

The couple walked out of the café, Clive's hand slipping to Lisbon's lower back to guide her through the al fresco tables and out to the sidewalk. Instead of helping Lisbon into her car, however, Clive took her to his.

"She's going with him?" Jane said in disbelief. "She doesn't even know this guy."

Cho didn't bother to point out that all of this was Jane's own fault.

They waited for Clive to drive out into traffic, before Cho started the car and followed, a few cars between them. They drove directly to Lisbon's apartment complex. Cho was an expert at tailing, so they managed to go undetected while Clive parked in the lot and he opened the car door for Lisbon. They were laughing as they made their way to her apartment.

"Shit,"said Jane under his breath. He tried to reassure himself. "Maybe she just needed a sweater or something."

"It's seventy-five degrees," Cho reasoned.

"Shit."

"Now what?" Cho asked.

"I'll give them ten minutes, and if they don't come back out, I'm goin' in."

"What are you gonna tell her?"

"I don't know; I'll think of something. If that fails, I'll tell her the truth, then…duck."

Ten minutes passed and Jane moved to get out of the car. He paused, hand on the door latch. "If we both show up on her doorstep, it might look very official," he ventured hopefully.

"I'm not lying for you," Cho told him.

"Fine, but I might need you for backup if things get ugly."

"You ever know this guy to become violent?" Cho asked, his hand going to his sidearm in sudden concern.

Jane smiled. "I was talking about Lisbon."

Cho's lips quirked and he turned his face forward, while Jane walked over to Lisbon's door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon was just tucking her grey t-shirt into her jeans when a knock came on her door. She walked out of her bedroom past Clive, who was making himself comfortable on her livingroom sofa.

"I wonder who this could be," she said aloud, smiling at her guest. She opened the door to a harried looking Jane.

"Oh, Lisbon. So glad you're here." And he threw himself into her arms.

Lisbon stumbled back a few steps with the impact, her arms sticking out awkwardly.

"Jane? What the hell-?"

"Sorry, Lisbon," he said, his face muffled by the silky hair at her nape. "Last night was just a little too much for me. I think I'm having a…a relapse or something. Can we talk? Please? I could really use a friend right now."

Clive rose from the sofa curiously, frowning at the spectacle of Jane practically slobbering over his new prospect.

"Of course…come in." She managed to extricate herself from his viselike hold to step aside so he could enter her home.

Upon seeing Clive, Jane stopped short. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company. Hello, Clive. I'll just—I'll go." He turned to leave.

"No! Don't be silly. Clive and I were just going to take a walk along the river. We just stopped here so I could change into some jeans. We're in no hurry, are we Clive?"

"No," Clive agreed reluctantly. "Of course not. Sorry you're not uh, _well_, Patrick."

Lisbon wondered at her date's mildly suspicious tone.

"It's nothing, really," replied Jane, suddenly sounding more nonchalant, but his eyes were darting everywhere but their eyes. Lisbon knew he was probably embarrassed by his emotional display. In truth, she was taken completely off guard by his uncharacteristic behavior. Maybe she'd pushed him too hard to go out last night.

"Jane, why don't you have a seat? I think I have some tea if you'd like some."

"That would be great, Lisbon. I'm really sorry to intrude…"

Lisbon went into her small kitchen, the door swinging closed behind her. Jane quickly walked over to stand in Clive's personal space, his face changing from sullen to furious in an instant.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered harshly. "I told you your job was done."

"The job part is. I'm not on your payroll anymore, so I don't owe you anything. I'm here now for something more...personal."

"What do you want from her? Tell me, and I'll give you enough money to forget about it."

Clive chuckled softly. "You don't _have_ enough money."

"Try me."

He looked tempted to confide in Jane for a moment, but he thought better of it and shook his head. "Sorry. This is a need only Teresa and her tight little body can fulfill."

"Chamomile or Oolong?" Lisbon called from the kitchen, making Jane nearly jump out of his skin.

"Oolong," he replied, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. "That would be great, thanks."

He turned back to Clive, his hands fisting around the man's lapels. "You listen to me, Clive, I know people that wouldn't think twice about making a two-bit grifter like you disappear. This is my last warning…"

Clive stepped back, pushing Jane's hands away and brushing at his jacket contemptuously. "Hands off, old buddy. This is Italian."

"Bullshit. It's a black market Armani knockoff. It's fake, just like everything about you."

Clive's expression suddenly lost all its amusement. His eyes became cold, shark like. "Well how did you get so superior all of a sudden? Working with the law instead of against it has made you lose your edge, Patty."

Jane blanched. Only his father had ever called him that, and Clive knew it. Jane's voice dropped to low and deadly levels.

"No, Clive, having my family butchered because of my own arrogance made me permanently lose my appetite for the business. You should get out of it too, before something bad happens to you."

"You threatening me…_Patty_?"

Just then, Lisbon re-entered the living room, and she immediately sensed the strangely heightened tension. Jane stepped back from his old partner, his eyes resting on his new one.

"Everything all right in here?" she asked guardedly.

"Yeah, sure," Clive answered, the smile expertly returning to his handsome face. "Patrick and I were just discussing old times."

"Uh-huh. Well. The water should be boiling any minute, Jane. Clive, can I have a word with you?"

"Of course."

Lisbon led Clive back to the kitchen, leaving Jane alone to take a shuddering breath. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a hurried text to Cho.

_You can go. All is well in here. I'll find my own way home. Thanks. I owe you._

Cho's reply came a second later.

_Yes you do. 49ers tickets like you promised._

_Fine, _Jane texted back. He pocketed his phone, then strained to hear the private conversation going on in Lisbon's kitchen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry, Clive," Lisbon said with genuine regret. "Jane's been going through a rough patch lately and I think seeing people from his past has brought everything back for him. Can we maybe reschedule our walk?"

Clive's jaw clenched in annoyance, but he managed to give her a disappointed smile. "Sure. No problem. Patrick isn't quite the same man he used to be, is he?"

"I don't imagine he would be," Lisbon commented.

"May I see you for dinner tomorrow night?"

Lisbon dimpled. "Sure, if we don't have a new case or something. Call me."  
>"I will," he promised.<p>

To Lisbon's surprise, he bent his head and pressed his warm lips gently to hers. Her eyelids fluttered closed. It felt nice, she thought, for his lips were full and sensual, but she was disappointed that she'd felt absolutely no spark. _That may come in time, _she told herself as he raised his handsome head and smiled into her eyes. _I could certainly become used to this._

The teakettle whistled, and Lisbon turned off the stove and moved the kettle to a cool burner.

"You go ahead and make Patrick's tea," he told her. "I'll show myself out."

"Okay." She reached a hand out to touch his arm. "Thank you for brunch. I had a nice time."

"As did I, Teresa. Until tomorrow." With one more long look of appreciation, Clive strode from her kitchen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Clive attempted to walk on past Jane, but he was foiled, of course.

"I hope you said good-bye, because you won't be seeing her anymore."

"I don't know why you keep saying that, Patty. It just doesn't seem to be working for you."

He shut the door on Jane's final rejoinder.

Lisbon brought in a small tray with tea for two, which she set on the coffee table in front of him. Jane looked up at her gratefully. When Lisbon had opened the door to him, his impassioned greeting had been an act, of course, a ruse designed to expel Clive from her apartment. Now, however, Jane began to feel like maybe his reaction to seeing her wasn't too far from the truth.

It had certainly been a long, emotional week for him, and now, with Clive's reappearance in his life, added on to several sleepless nights, he was suddenly feeling completely drained. But being in Lisbon's compassionate presence was a balm to his tortured soul.

Lisbon joined him on the couch and watched with concern the slight tremble of Jane's hand as he reached for the small pitcher of milk.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"No," he said truthfully. He looked up at her worried face and smiled a little. "But I will be," he reassured her, because he hated it when that line appeared between her eyebrows. He poured the milk in his cup, then the tea, the comforting ritual soothing his frayed nerves.

Lisbon tried to be patient, to wait for him to start talking, but she had too many questions. So, after he'd finished preparing his tea the way he liked it, she could hold her tongue no longer.

"Tell me the truth, Jane. What's going on between you and Clive?"

She thought she detected a brief widening of his eyes, but he schooled his features and took a tentative sip of the hot beverage. "You know how it is with old friends. Sometimes not all the water makes it under the bridge. It's nothing for you to worry about. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying his company, and I am sorry I ruined your plans."

"It didn't seem like nothing to me. I felt like I'd interrupted the beginning of a brawl."

Jane still seemed evasive. "Nonsense; your cop senses are just working overtime. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now and I just…couldn't be alone today. Can we just sit here and drink our tea for awhile? I know I'm already starting to feel much better."

"Wouldn't it help if you talked about everything? I know I'm no psychiatrist, but then, that might be a good thing, right?" She gave him a tentative smile of encouragement.

He was tempted to spill his guts to her, but he didn't know the first place to start. She knew what had happened with Sophie already, minus some of the more unpleasant, unshareable details, and he'd confessed to her about his long-ago hospital stay. But the things that were bothering him now—his dilemma with Clive and his oddly possessive feelings toward her—weren't things he was prepared to discuss, least of all with her.

"It might be more helpful to try to forget for awhile," he told her. "I'm tired of thinking about everything."

She sighed and sipped her own tea. She knew he was hiding something from her, but there was enough truth in his eyes that she believed he was in fact in some sort of misery. "Okay. What would you like to talk about instead?" And so she'd appease him, at least for now.

"You," he said without thinking. It was the first thing that came to his mind. He knew her very well after five years, knew her smiles, her scowls, her looks of anger and stubbornness. He'd always been intrigued by what really made her tick though, and this seemed like a golden opportunity to delve more deeply into the mystery that was Teresa Lisbon. He found that getting to know her better was more than idle curiosity now.

"Tell me a story from your childhood."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why? Don't try to get your mind off your problems by '_mentalizing'_ me." She held up her fingers, forming air quotes around the term.

Jane grinned, set down his teacup and leaned back more comfortably against her overstuffed couch. "I wouldn't think of it, Lisbon."

"I don't believe you."

He sighed, turning his face toward her. She looked so beautiful, he thought almost absently. She'd applied a little more makeup than she normally did for daytime (he tried not to think that it had been for Clive's benefit), and her hair hung in its usual style, falling in a smooth chestnut cascade to her neck. Her lips were pink and decidedly kissable. He closed his eyes quickly, lest she see the surprising direction of his thoughts.

"Okay, tell me _any_ story. I'll just sit here and listen to your dulcet tones if you don't mind."

She studied his face, the lines around his eyes even more pronounced with exhaustion and strain. His blonde hair looked even more disheveled than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it in agitation, and his jacket was missing, so he wore only his grey vest over her favorite light-blue shirt he wore. Seeing him this way tore at her heart in a way she didn't want to admit, but he was keeping things from her, and she wanted it to stop, for both their peace of mind. She took a soft, fortifying breath and began telling a familiar tale.

"Once there was a little boy who was sent to tend the village sheep, and he was warned to call out if a wolf ever came near—"

"Lisbon," he interrupted, grinning in spite of himself.

"Oh, sorry," she said dryly. "You've probably heard that one."

"Yeah, a time or two."

"Okay, then…let me see. There was once a puppet who dreamed of becoming a real boy. Only problem was, he had this strange nose-growing problem…"

He laughed. "I think that one's based on my own real life story."

"How about: 'And Peter remembered the word of Jesus, which said unto him, "Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice." And he went out, and wept bitterly.'"

"I detect a theme here," he said dryly.

Jane felt the shocking warmth of her hand on his knee, even through his slacks. His eyes flew open again to meet her cool green gaze.

"Tell me the truth, Jane," she repeated. "Why did you _really_ show up on my doorstep unannounced and literally throw yourself at me? Anyone else, I would believe it, but you…you're up to something, and I think you should man up and tell me."

Jane's mind swirled with all the possible things he might say. Here was his opportunity to confess his arrangement with Clive. She seemed calm and only a little annoyed at the moment, so maybe she wouldn't punch him too hard if he told her. She might even end up being understanding. Or, he could spare a beating and tell her another truth that would be slightly less physically punishing, though potentially even riskier emotionally. In the end, because he was Patrick Jane, he took the risk.

"When I saw you with Clive," he said, his eyes serious, honest. "I didn't like it."

"What?" she asked, tensing at the uncomfortable turn of the conversation.

"You heard me. I was jealous. And I didn't like feeling that way. It was…terrifying."

"Jane—" she began, looking at him like he'd sprouted horns and a tail. "This isn't funny."

"No, Lisbon," he told her, his hand moving to cover hers where it still rested on his knee. "It isn't funny at all."

A/N: So, what do you say? Too twisty and turny? I promise, there's a method to my madness, and it will eventually lead to lots of Jisbony goodness. I have my fingers crossed that you'll click that review button and give me some much welcome feedback! Thanks for reading.

P.S.: If you've posted a review and haven't heard back from me, it's likely because you either didn't log on or you have your PM capabilities turned off. I nearly always answer logged on reviews!

P.P.S.S.: Please put me on alert so you'll know when I post my new tag after this week's episode. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, so this chapter is all over the place emotionally, but I hope when you read it, it isn't too disjointed. Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/alerts from all you awesome readers out there, including those who forgot or are too shy to sign in. I love you all!

**Chapter 4**

_Where the hell is this coming from? _Lisbon asked herself. She looked down to where her suddenly cold hand rested beneath his warm one, then back to his vulnerable, sea-storm eyes. He was playing her for some reason. Distracting her from whatever the real truth was. She'd seen him do it a million times with murder suspects. He'd put something innocuous in their hands while taking something important from them, like a gun. It was sleight of hand nonsense, but it almost always worked. _Well, it's not gonna work on me._ She removed her hand from his knee.

"Oh, I get it. Patrick Jane hates not being the center of attention."

"Well," he began, "that's part of it—"

She was pleased to see his little game was fraying around the edges a little, since she wasn't buying this jealousy thing.

"Explain yourself, then: literally throwing yourself at me in the doorway, attempting to manipulate my emotions and getting Clive to leave…"

His face tightened only a fraction, but Lisbon saw it. He might think he didn't have a tell, but sometimes, when he was taken by surprise, a very observant person might be able to detect it. And Lisbon was a CBI agent, after all.

"That's it, isn't it?" she said triumphantly. "This isn't about you and your depression and your claims of jealousy. It's Clive, just like I thought. He has something on you, and you want him gone."

He smiled his widest, most beautiful smile—another deflection tactic. "Now, Lisbon," he said, his voice brimming with condescension. "Your imagination is running wild again. Clive reminds me of things I'd rather forget. I was a fool to have introduced you two—don't know what I was thinking. He's not the same man I knew before—okay, scratch that. _I'm_ not the same man I was before. I'm trying to protect you now."

"Protect me? From what? He works in the SA's office, for cryin' out loud. He's charming and funny and intelligent. And gorgeous—did I mention gorgeous? Oh, save me, Jane! Save me!" She said dramatically, the back of her hand resting against her brow like a distressed damsel.

"All right, all right. No need for sarcasm here. Listen to me, Lisbon, he wants something from you, and I don't think it's your Oolong," he said, nodding to his cooling cup. When his eyes met hers again, they'd gotten considerably cooler too.

"Well, that's insulting. There's no possible way a great guy like him could be interested in a mousy little thing like me, is that it? It must be something else besides my winning personality. He _could_ just want me for my body, you ever think of that?"

He actually cringed at that statement, not even attempting to hide his tell that time.

"Of course he would want you. Who wouldn't? And if that's all he wants, he's not a very good catch, is he? You deserve someone who would appreciate all your finest assets, the least of which is your lovely body."

She stared at him. He'd noticed her body? She thought Jane was above things like that; she was pretty sure revenge had been his only bedmate these last five years. But his eyes _had_ dropped to her breasts when he'd said the words, _lovely body. _Lisbon felt an unbidden flash of awareness, and knew her face had flushed red—her own most annoying tell.

Of course, Jane had noticed, and she was pleased to see the slight rise in color of his own cheeks. "What I'm trying so awkwardly to say here is I'm sorry I ever introduced you two. If you trust my judgment, even a little, you won't see Clive again."

"Ha. That's funny, Jane. You may have great judgment when it comes to choosing suspects, but your judgment everywhere else? Spotty at best."

He feigned a hurt expression, puppy eyes and all. "Now who's being insulting? I feel responsible for this mess. The least I can do is help you get out of it. Just make up some excuse if—"she gave him a dirty look—"_when_," he modified. "_When_ he calls."

"Mess? There's no mess to clean up. You're still holding out on me. What does Clive have over you?"

"Why Lisbon, Clive Edmonds has nothing over me." He grinned at his own joke, and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, until you offer me some concrete evidence, or at the very least confess all, I _will_ be going out with him. In the meantime, why don't you ask Amy out again? She called me this morning and said she had a great time with you last night."

"Did she?" he said noncommittally, avoiding her eyes. Amy had been very attractive, but he'd mainly been concerned with Lisbon and Clive the entire night, so he felt a little guilty that his heart hadn't been in it.

"Yes. She said you were charming, and funny and intelligent and—hot. Yeah, that was her exact word: _hot. _Hmm…sounds a lot like my description of Clive."

"Hot?" He sniffed in distaste. "How can a forty-year-old man be considered hot? How about distinguished? Or handsome? Hot is a word meant for teenyboppers and rock stars. How old is Amy anyway?"

"Thirty-five." She chuckled. "Are you blind? I thought Wonder Boy knew all and saw all. Not that your ego needs stroking, but women are always staring at you everywhere we go. It's annoying." Of course he knew this—had known from a very early age that he could get whatever he wanted from a woman just by flashing his killer smile. These days, though, he mostly ignored the come-ons. But it was interesting that Lisbon noticed…

"Boy Wonder, Lisbon. Boy Wonder. Okay, I'll go out with Amy again if we can have another double date."

"No way."

"Come on, Lisbon, think of your friend. She's obviously lonely and afraid to put herself out there. We did connect on some level, and I feel much more confident about dating again. Maybe we should both strike while the iron's hot, so to speak, before we both lose our nerve. But I still feel like I need backup. Having you there would make things much easier."

"You're so full of crap. You want to keep an eye on Clive and me, obviously."

"True. But we could all win in this."

"How would I win? I'd be losing the chance to be alone with a gorgeous guy, plus having you looking over my shoulder all night. Not conducive to a romantic evening."

Jane shook his head, looking down at a fingernail in feigned sorrow. "Poor Amy. Destined to live a lonely life, binging on ice cream and surrounding herself with itinerant cats."

"The answer is no, Jane."

He sighed. "Aww, well. I guess I've done all I can." He rose and headed for the door.  
>"Thank you for the tea, Lisbon. I suppose I'll see you at work tomorrow."<p>

She rose to join him in the small foyer. "Yes, I suppose so."

He paused in the doorway and looked back at her, a serious expression clouding his face. She could tell he'd made up his mind about something.

"I wasn't lying earlier, when I said I was jealous of Clive," he told her, his voice low and rich. "_I'm _supposed to be the one who makes you laugh, who challenges your mind, who stirs up your emotions. I didn't like it when I saw that someone else was doing those things for you. I felt like I was…losing you." His words hung between them as they regarded each other in fascination, each wondering what those feelings he'd expressed had really meant.

"Good-bye, Teresa," he finished softly. He moved his hand up as if to touch her cheek, but he stopped himself at the last minute and turned to leave.

He left her speechless in the doorway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane only stopped walking when he heard her door click shut, which wasn't too long, fortunately, because he didn't know what she'd think when he kept walking past the parking lot. He pulled out his phone with a heavy sigh and called for a taxi.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Monday morning._

It took Lisbon exactly one phone call to discover that there was no one named Clive Edmonds working in the State's Attorney's Office; no one in the past, no one recently. She hung up the office phone, stunned and angry, then she grabbed her cell and texted Jane. She didn't trust herself to walk into the bullpen and call for him in person.

_Get your lying ass in here._

She watched through the window of her office as he lay on his couch, likely asleep because he jumped a little when his phone buzzed an incoming text. He brought the phone to his sleepy eyes, and after reading what she'd written, he was instantly awake. He sat up and glanced at her office in trepidation, and she wondered if he would bolt for the elevator.

_Don't even think about it, _she texted him. He met her eyes from across the room, and almost laughed at how well she knew him.

He held up his hands in defeat and began his short walk of shame to her office. The rest of the team stopped and watched his every move, glancing from him to Lisbon's office suspiciously. Jane had obviously done something to piss off the boss, and from the way the blinds in her office were violently snapping shut, they knew he was in for it. Cho just shook his head knowingly.

Jane shut Lisbon's door behind him and helpfully closed its shade too. He took his seat across from her desk as she settled in for the interrogation.

"Who the hell is he," she demanded without preamble.

"Nice to see you too on this fine morning, Lisbon."

"Jane, I'm in no mood—" she practically snarled. Then she visibly calmed herself and continued tightly: "Now I know you knew him in your former profession, so I'm guessing he was also a little on the shady side."

_Well, that was an understatement_, thought Jane.

"Tell me, Lisbon, what's the statute of limitations for impersonating an officer of the court?"

She stared daggers at him. "He's not really even an attorney? Why the hell did you set me up with this, this—fraud?"

He sighed, and a shadow passed over his features. "He fit the bill as far as looks and charm, and I knew he could improvise the rest. The truth is, Lisbon, I didn't have anyone else to ask."

She regarded his pained expression, and her anger melted away somewhat. Then a thought occurred to her, and she was no longer just angry, she was furious.

"How much did you pay him?"  
>"Now, Lisbon—"<p>

"How much? Tell me, how much do gigolos cost these days? I really want to know. Boy, you two must have had a big laugh when you saw how taken in by him I was. Teresa Lisbon, CBI agent, can't even tell when a man is yanking her chain. So desperate for a date that she would believe a beautiful man like him would even look at her twice without being paid for it. What kind of detective skills does she even have?"

"It wasn't like that," he said miserably. "I swear, Lisbon. It was only supposed to be one date, then our business was done. He took it upon himself to ask you out again. And, for the record, there was to be no sex involved, under any circumstances. Just dinner, then he'd disappear forever."

"How much?" Why she would be so curious about the amount he didn't know.

"Why is that important?" The look she gave him brooked no further argument.

"A thousand dollars, plus dinner and travel expenses from San Francisco."

To his dismay, she opened her desk drawer, took out her purse, and fished around for her checkbook. She slammed it down on her desk and began writing.

"I'll make it fifteen hundred," she snapped. "Any extra can be your finder's fee."

"Please, Lisbon. I feel humiliated enough as it is. Stop that, I'm begging you."

She paused mid-write to stare in amazement at his audacity.

"_You_ feel humiliated? You? You self-centered asshole! Tell me, do you even remotely feel like the pimp you are? Because I certainly feel like I've been screwed over big time, with not even a hangover to show for it." She filled in the check while she raged to herself about how she'd love to humiliate _him_ by wringing his neck. She tore off the check with a flourish and stuck it out to him from across her desk.

Naturally, he refused to take it.

"Take the goddamn check, Jane."

"No."

She was up and around her desk before he had the chance to get to his feet. She pushed him back down into his chair, and he made a noise that sounded something like, "Oomph!" while the chair rocked back dangerously.

"Take the goddamn check, Jane," she repeated angrily, going for the shirt pocket beneath his vest. He reached up defensive hands and then caught both her wrists, her sweet breath puffing in his face, her eyes wide and angry and beautiful.

"Settle down, Lisbon," he said calmly, in an attempt to tranquilize her with his hypnotic voice, his soothing gaze. Then, of course, he took things just a step too far. "I more than got my money's worth. You enjoyed yourself, looked happier than I've—"

She lunged at him with a feral growl, attempting to simply shove the check down the front of his shirt. They struggled a moment, Jane not wanting to hurt her, but also knowing that she might very well hurt him.

He gave an unmanly yelp when her hand popped a few of his buttons and he felt the strange dichotomy of scratchy paper and a hot, feminine hand on his bare chest. He was about to simply give in when their eyes met and they both froze, panting in exertion and mutual frustration. Impulsively, he jerked on her wrists and she stumbled forward, her lips landing firmly on his.

A sharp pang of desire shot through him, and suddenly, Jane was kissing Lisbon with everything that he had. A beat later, and she was fully participating as he drew them both awkwardly to their feet, pulling her roughly against his hardened body. She opened her mouth beneath his seeking tongue, and they moaned together, impatient hands shoving roughly into nests of soft brown and curly blonde, trying to get even closer.

Jane's heart pounded against hers, and he felt lightheaded from shock and lack of oxygen. She must have felt the same overwhelming sensation, for she at last turned her face to the side, her breathing labored and ragged.

"Stop, Jane," she whispered weakly, as his mouth continued planting hot, wet kisses from her cheek to her ear. "I can't breathe."

She shivered as his warm breath stirred her hair, and he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and nipping it with his teeth. She thought she might melt to the floor then and there if he didn't stop his sensual torture.

"Jane…stop…please."

He must have finally heard her, for he pulled away reluctantly, his panting matching hers in intensity. She held onto his shoulders, closing her eyes to try to steady her heartbeat and breathing.

"Lisbon, I'm sorry, I—" he began, right before her knee came up and slammed hard into his engorged groin.

He made a strangled noise in his throat and dropped to the floor in a heap, rolling to his side and grabbing his injury with both hands.

"Goddammit! Sonofabitch!" he managed through clenched teeth, plus a few more words Lisbon had never heard him use before. She stood watching his agony in shock, both because of the wild kisses they'd shared and her delayed over-reaction that had sent him to the floor.

She dropped down beside him. "Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry! God, I can't believe I did that! Can I get you anything? A pillow? Ice maybe?"

"No!" he hissed, eyes squeezed shut. "Don't touch me!" She pulled back the hand that was about to do just that. When the urgent knock on the door came, her eyes flew to it in panic.

"Uh, just a second," she called, then, straightening her t-shirt and smoothing down her hair, she opened the door a crack. Cho and Van Pelt stood there looking concerned, while Jane softly keened to himself behind her.

"We thought we heard someone fall," Van Pelt explained. She waited expectantly for Lisbon to step aside and let them in, but Lisbon hesitated a moment, very aware of how all of this might look. She caught Cho's meaningful glance and knew immediately he was in on this whole thing with Jane. She stepped aside to allow him to see what happened to traitors.

"Jane uh, fell out of his chair," she nodded at the prone consultant.

"And racked himself?" asked Cho in his usual monotone.

"Yeah," Lisbon replied.

"Oh my God, Jane. Are you okay?" Van Pelt knelt beside him.

"He doesn't want to be touched," said Lisbon. Van Pelt stood up again, looking upon Jane, obviously in pain, and feeling totally helpless.

Rigsby, returning from the breakroom with his morning doughnut, followed the voices to Lisbon's office.

"What's goin' on?" he asked curiously, pulling up short when he saw Jane writhing in agony on the boss's floor.

"The boss found out Jane paid a guy to go out with her so she kneed him in the nads,"explained Cho succinctly.

"Huh," replied Rigsby, taking another bite and looking upon Jane as he might a corpse at a crime scene.

"You did what?" exclaimed Van Pelt, outraged for her fellow woman. "You pig!" And she kicked his behind, hard. Pain shot through his lower body with renewed vigor.

"Jesus!" he cried out.

"Glad to hear you finally got religion," Van Pelt commented in satisfaction. Then, her work there done, she exited Lisbon's office and went back to her desk.

Cho looked to find his boss's hard eyes upon him. "I was an accessory _after_ the fact," he told her, and chose that opportune moment to leave the scene.

Rigsby addressed Jane in some empathy. "Glad I'm not you, pal," he said, before nodding to Lisbon and refocusing on his chocolate pastry.

Alone with Jane again, Lisbon closed her door and went back to her chair, bringing up the spreadsheet she'd been working on before her ill-fated call to the State's Attorney's Office. Her lips still tingled from Jane's kisses, and she did feel sorry for what he must be going through at the moment. But Karma could be a bitch, after all.

"Lisbon?" came Jane's shaky voice from the floor. "I really am sorry," he said forlornly.

She sighed. "I know you are, Jane."

He lay on her floor for another hour.

A/N: I warned you there would be farcical elements, lol. I hope you had a good laugh. (No actual nads were hurt in the writing of this fanfic, although my husband served as technical consultant.)

Thanks for reading. Reviews? Anybody?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you again for your wonderful reviews! I'm thrilled at the reception to the humor in the previous chapter. I had such fun writing it. Now, another installment that I hope will surprise you again (in a good way, of course) and provide you with a few more laughs.

**Chapter 5**

Jane waited until Lisbon left her office before he attempted to rise from the floor. It was an experience best described as hellish, and by the time he got to his feet, he had used every expletive he knew, made up a few others, until at last he stood on wobbly legs, drenched in sweat from pain and exertion. He held onto Lisbon's desk a moment, wiping his brow with his shirtsleeve. He felt a slight scratchiness inside his shirt, and reaching for his chest, he withdrew Lisbon's crumpled check. He smiled a little despite his pain, and laid it reverently on her desk, taking a moment to attempt to smooth out the hopelessly wrinkled paper. Giving up, he left it there where she would be sure to discover it. After that kiss, he felt like he should be paying her.

Jane hobbled to the door, cussing to himself with each slow step. Thankfully, no one was in the hallway, so he made his way gingerly to the elevator, gritting his teeth against the throbbing in his groin.

Eventually, he made it to his car and back to his motel room. The first thing he did was grab a bag of frozen vegetables from his little freezer, stuffing them down his pants and collapsing onto the bed in relief.

As he lay there, his physical needs seen to for the moment, he could finally focus on the other traumatic event that had so recently befallen him. _The Kiss_. He had kissed Lisbon, and they'd both gone a little crazy for a few glorious minutes. It had been full of anger and passion and damned if there wasn't a giant helping of lust thrown in for good measure. All he'd wanted to do was push her down onto her desk, or onto the floor, or against the wall and end his years of celibacy in one swift stroke. Lisbon obviously had had other ideas.

He supposed he couldn't blame her for the punishment she'd inflicted upon him, but he couldn't decide if she was reacting to the kiss or to what she'd found out about Clive. He'd prefer to think it was a delayed reaction to having been lied to and used so callously rather than the kiss itself. More than likely it was a bit of both, but Jane had been so shaken up himself that he could see why Lisbon had needed an outlet for her frustration and fear. While he wished his genitalia had not had to be the prime target (whatever happened to a good old-fashioned punch in the nose?), he knew he deserved it for the Clive situation, but not for the kiss. That, he couldn't find in his heart to be sorry for.

Even now he could still taste the sweetness of her sugared morning coffee on his tongue, could still feel the warmth of her smooth lips, the sensual way they molded to his. He gasped a little as his body twitched in remembrance and pain beneath the frozen peas. Kissing Lisbon had been a revelation—not only because now he knew he could still have that kind of physical reaction to a woman, but that the woman happened to be Teresa Lisbon.

His ringing cell phone made him jump in surprise, then made his hear pick up speed at the thought that it might be Lisbon on the other end. He was disappointed.

"Nice try getting me out of the picture, Patty," said Clive without preamble. "But ultimately, you failed again. She's going out with me tonight."

"What?" Jane's mind was racing. Was Clive just messing with him now? Lisbon knew the truth about him, so why would she go out with a conman again? He chose to play along anyway, to see if his old partner might reveal the truth.

"Yeah, Agent Lisbon and I will be doing some mutual investigating, if you know what I mean."

"I find that hard to believe," Jane replied, because it was true. "I still don't get what you want from her," he pressed.

"Just a few…favors," he said cryptically. "Well, have a great day, old pal. I know I will." He broke the connection and Jane stared at his phone. He was about to call Lisbon before he lost his nerve when a knock came on his door. He was tempted to ignore it, but he so seldom had any visitors…

He pulled the frozen food from his pants and tossed it in the sink, then limped his way to the door. He saw the concerned face of Lisbon through the peephole, and for a moment he was too paralyzed by fear to open the door. He dropped his forehead gently to the cold metal, closing his eyes tightly against the renewed onslaught of conflicting emotions.

"Jane, I know you're in there. Your car's out front. Don't make me kick in the damn door."

She could do it too, he thought, and smiled. He opened the door.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm a little slower going this afternoon."

She blushed at his meaning, and his grin widened when her eyes drifted to his crotch, then rushed hastily back up to his eyes.

"Please, come in, Lisbon," he said in amusement, and he stepped aside to let her. "I was actually about to call you."

"Oh," she said, looking around the cheap room in what he thought was pity. His grin faded. He didn't want that from her.

"Yeah, I just got a weird call from our good friend Clive," he explained. "Seems you two are going out tonight. He wasn't lying, was he?" He nodded for her to sit at the small table in his tiny kitchenette, while he lowered himself to the soft comfort of the bed. Lisbon caught sight of the discarded bag of frozen peas in the sink and smiled to herself as she took a seat on the ladder back chair.

"No," she said, "he wasn't lying. That's why I'm here, actually. I got to thinking about what you said, that he wants something from me—besides my body, of course," she said, a flash of her usual humor lighting her eyes. "If he's playing me for nefarious reasons, I want to know, so I can knee him in the balls too."

Jane cringed. "Yeah, well I think you've more than proven yourself capable in that regard."

"Too soon?" she asked, because he wasn't laughing. "Anyway, since the cat is out of the bag now, I wondered if you had any idea what exactly he's planning for me."

"I have no idea. We never ran any scams I can remember that were remotely similar to this one. I'm thinking it must have to do with your profession. I was the one to call him, remember, so he must have hatched this plan when he found out you were with the CBI."

"Hmm," she said. "He must need information, or for me to do something for him."

"I agree. He said something about wanting a favor from you. I don't like the idea of your going out with him to find out what it is."

She smirked. "I think I'm fully capable of handling myself."

"Maybe. But I don't have to like it."

She sobered and their eyes met, and each of them was undeniably thinking of their shared kiss.

"One kiss and you're awfully proprietary all of a sudden," she commented bravely, putting it out there on the table. He admired that about her.

"Maybe," he repeated. She flushed and his gaze upon her intensified. "I'm not sorry though, Lisbon, for kissing you. It was—"

"Good," they said together.

"Yes," she agreed. "It was. But it was foolish of us. We work together, and I'm pretty sure there are rules—"

"Rules smules," he mocked. "That's the trouble with you, Lisbon. You need to stop playing by the rules so much, have some excitement in your life."

"Ha. This from a man whose first date in five years was only this weekend. Have I created a monster?"

_That is probably a good characterization_, thought Jane, shifting a little when he felt himself responding to her voice, her body, the promise of her soft, pink lips.

Aloud, he said, "What can I tell you, Lisbon, you've broken the dam, or the ice, or whatever euphemism you want to insert. Now, all I can think about is the pain in my groin and kissing you again, not necessarily in that order."

Her eyes went round in surprise that he too was being so open and honest about this. She had expected that they'd both be evasive, that they'd at the very least agree to forget about it, pretend it never happened. She supposed they'd worked together long enough to know that unless they dealt with this, it might ruin their working relationship. Their personal friendship might go all to hell, but in the grand scheme of things, finding bad guys was much more important than hurt feelings. Wasn't it?

"Me too," she whispered, feeling a little disoriented by the brief flare of passion in his gaze.

He laughed suddenly, his eyes going quickly from arousal to amusement. "You are also thinking of my groin? Why, Teresa-"

"Shut up," she said, blushing again. "Look, I have a theory about all this."

"Oh, really?" He was amused at her attempt at logic in what seemed to him a totally illogical situation, but he was still incredibly interested in how she was going to explain this away. She gave him her familiar look of admonishment.

"Yes, really. We were obviously both frustrated and angry with one another—"

"I wasn't angry with you, Lisbon."

"Well, I was pissed off enough for the both of us. Stop interrupting me so I can get this out."

He mimed locking his lips and sat on the bed contritely, but of course the merry twinkle in his eyes overshadowed all of that. She sighed, but plowed on determinedly.

"Neither of us is used to being so physical lately with someone who isn't a murder suspect—"

He started to comment on that, but at her glare, he grinned and kept his mouth shut.

"What I'm trying to say is, it was a heat of the moment thing, an extreme overreaction to all the different emotions that had been building since Saturday night. We were just letting off some steam before either of us exploded."

He waited a few beats to be sure she was finished, then he raised his hand for permission to speak. She rolled her eyes but nodded her approval.

"Well, that's a very logical, well-thought-out theory, Lisbon. It does make perfect sense when you put it that way. But I have a problem with your line of reasoning."

"Of course you do," she sighed, and closed her eyes, one hand going to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"We've had plenty of fights in the past, and you certainly haven't hesitated to express yourself…_physically_ with me before, though I don't recall our lips ever actually touching. No, this time, there was something more than anger there, so I think we should test this theory of yours."

She raised her head to look at him, ala deer in the headlights. "What? How?"

He smirked, but despite his calm, rational exterior, his heart was pounding double-time at the thought that she might call his bluff and allow him to kiss her again.

"You know how. We're not seething masses of rage at the moment, are we?"

All she could manage was a slight shake of her head.

"Then, come here and kiss me again Lisbon, and see if that's all there was to it." He patted the space beside him.

He watched the emotions play across her face, smiling inwardly when they seemed to range from fear to curiosity, from excitement to resignation. He tried to control his breathing when she sat beside him, the bed giving a little at her slight weight.

"Okay," she said, as if getting ready for a flu shot. "Let's do this."

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips slightly. Jane stared at her a moment, his momentary panic easing back to amusement as she waited for him to continue the experiment.

"Don't act like you're about to kiss your smelly old Aunt Martha. At least _pretend_ you might like it."

Her eyes flew open. "How did you know I have an Aunt Mar—?"

"Everyone has a smelly old Aunt Martha. Just relax, Lisbon. I know you've done this before."

"You're right. Sorry. Proceed." She put her hands flat on her thighs and turned to face him, a blank expression on her elfish face. Jane took her impassivity as a challenge. He allowed his own face and eyes to soften, and he reached out a tentative hand to lift her chin. She blinked at him owlishly, and he heard the tiny catch of her breath as he closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to hers.

Their first kiss had been hurried and awkward, an insane mashing together of lips and tongues and teeth. He savored her lips now, moving his slowly against hers, reintroducing himself properly this time. His tongue darted out to trace the seam of her mouth, encouraging her to open to him, and she did, with a sharp gasp of welcome.

Lisbon's hands hesitated, then slid up his arms to his shoulders, and she tilted her head to allow him better access. He took full advantage and the mood of the kiss turned quickly from gentle and seeking to hungry and eager. Jane felt like he was drowning in her taste, her softness, her passion. He couldn't stop himself, not even to breathe, and he pulled her into his arms, wanting to get as close as possible to her beckoning warmth. He felt himself harden painfully and he moaned a little as his injured groin protested, but he did his best to ignore it, especially when Lisbon's small hands began roaming over the buttonless _V _at his throat.

Without thinking, he lowered her to the bed and lay halfway on top of her, deepening the kiss even further. His hands slipped into the silkiness of her hair, her intoxicating scent surrounding him, taking him to a hazy place of pure sensation, his sharp mind suddenly useless and empty of everything but her. Had Jane been thinking at all, he wouldn't have risked the irresistible desire to cover her body completely with his. Renewed pain suffused him as their bodies aligned, and he abruptly rolled onto his back with a yelp. He lay there helplessly, his breathing visibly raising and lowering his vest as he struggled to deal with the violent throbbing of both his crotch and his heart.

"Jane? Did I hurt you?" She sat up on one elbow and leaned over him, her own pulse pounding through her entire body, her head still foggy with passion.

"Yeah," he panted. "About two hours ago."

"Oh," she said meekly, but then she smiled into his face. "Talk about being hoist—or _not_ hoist—on your own petard."

"Is that a commentary on my prowess?" he asked, eyes still closed, but a grin overtaking his pained expression.

"That remains to be seen," she said softly. His eyes slowly opened then, and he was gratified to see her green eyes still slightly dazed, her lips plump and swollen from his kisses.

"I guess we've soundly disproved your theory."

She reached over and absently brushed the blonde curls that had rakishly fallen forward on his brow. "What are we going to do about this, Jane?" she said on a tremulous sigh.

"I don't know, Teresa. It's all very…surreal. It's not like either of us planned this, you know."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. It wasn't like it was one of my diabolical plans. If you recall, you're the one who encouraged me to put myself out there. Whose petard are we talking about now?"

She chuckled. "Why is it that everything _you_ do ends up blowing up in _my_ face?

"Just one of the many occupational hazards that comes with working with me."

They smiled at each other, both experiencing a mixture of emotions, one of which felt strangely like peace. Jane for one hadn't felt that way in such a long time that he almost didn't recognize the feeling.

"I don't know what I'm prepared to give you, but I do know what I want, Lisbon. I want more of this. I'm messed up about a lot of things. I'm obsessive to the point of blindness at times, and I know that I frequently make your life miserable." He laughed in a self-deprecating way. "I guess listing my faults isn't exactly the way to sell a relationship with me, but there it is."

Lisbon smiled, but didn't offer him any other reassurance. She felt like she'd just been given life-changing news, and didn't quite know how to process it yet. Everything was happening so fast that, despite how right it felt when she kissed him, she couldn't rely on her own judgment, especially when he was looking at her in adoration, his blue-green eyes smoky with desire.

"I don't know what I'm feeling here, what I'm able to give you either," she told him honestly. "I need to think, and right now, being here with you is not conducive to clear thinking." She moved to sit up, and Jane reached for her again, pulling her down gently to kiss her, devouring her lips slowly, seductively, giving her something that was sure to interfere with all that clear thinking she was planning.

He let her go reluctantly, and she stood, smoothing down her clothes as he gingerly sat up, grimacing at the soreness of his nether region.

"Did I apologize for that?" asked Lisbon, glancing at his crotch again in a way that made Jane flush a little.

"No."

"Good," she said with a superior grin. They both knew he'd deserved it for hiring a conman.

He smiled back. "Hey, what time are you meeting Clive?"

"You're not going."

"Yes I am. You need backup."

"You look a little out of commission at the moment."

"Lisbon," he protested.

"Jane," she mocked.

"You know I'll figure out how to find you, right? Save us both some trouble and just tell me."

She knew he was right, so she gave in reluctantly and named a French restaurant. Jane wondered how Clive had gotten reservations for the place on such short notice. He'd probably greased some palms with the very money Jane had paid him Saturday night. He felt decidedly cross at that thought. He and Lisbon briefly discussed their plan to con the conman, and she made him promise not to interfere unless he received the agreed upon signal for help.

"I'll see you there later," he told her. He moved to escort her out, but she held up a forestalling hand.

"Don't get up. You just relax and reapply those peas for awhile." Her mouth quirked with restrained laughter. "You'll need your strength later."

"Is that an invitation?" he couldn't resist asking, smirking back at her sudden embarrassment. "If that's the case, I'll step it up to Brussels sprouts."

"Stick with the peas…for now." And she winked at him before she shut the door.

A/N: Did their honesty surprise you? I've personally written (and read) other fics where Jane and Lisbon are either confused or run scared, or bury their feelings for each other after the first kiss, so I thought it might be a refreshing change if they were just honest with each other, in the spirit of their recent interactions on the show. But don't worry, just because they're being honest (for once) doesn't mean things will go smoothly.

I hope you liked what I did with this chapter. I'm excited about the new episode tonight, and I hope to have a tag for you very soon! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm so pleased with all the positive response to this story. I know I'm behind (as usual) on reviews, but I promise to get to them very soon. I do appreciate each and every one. By the way, if you have given a signed review but you haven't heard from me, you might have your PM capabilities turned off. I reply to every signed review it's possible for me to answer (eventually, lol)! Thanks so much!

Now, on to…

**Chapter 6**

Jane had called Lisbon an hour before her date with Clive and insisted she wear a wire and an earpiece.

"I need a warrant for that," she reminded him impatiently.

"Meh. We just won't record what he says. It'll be for my listening pleasure only."

"I sometimes think it is your goal in life to get me fired."

"Of course," he said dryly, "though It's actually my _second_ goal."

She sighed into the phone and he could just see her pinching her nose in that cute, repressed way she had sometimes.

"It'll keep me from coming into the restaurant, which you know I'll do if I get too antsy."

"The deal was for you to wait for my signal—"

"I'm really not good at sticking to the rules, Lisbon."

He could practically hear her thinking across the airwaves. He began to feel a familiar, satisfied sensation, as one might when one has hooked a big fish and is reeling it slowly to the shore.

"Fine. But anything he says while being recorded is inadmissible in court."

"They'll just have to rely on the word of California's best CBI agent while we conveniently leave out anything about using a wire." Throwing in a compliment always tended to grease the wheels a bit. Well, with most people, that is.

"Quit with the flattery, Jane. I said yes, but I don't have to like it."

"That's my girl," said Jane with more than a touch of annoying condescension.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Forty-five minutes later, Lisbon came out of her apartment to meet Jane in the parking lot, where he stood, casually leaning against his blue Citroen. She thrust a small receiver at him and he smiled his appreciation, tossing the equipment in through his open car window. Then he took in the little black dress she wore, how tight and low cut it was, and his smile took a decidedly wicked turn. His pulse hitched in unfamiliar, though welcome desire.

"Where could you possibly be wearing a wire?" he asked, his voice low and husky. He made a show of closely examining her, his eyes sweeping from the top of her shining brown hair, down to her sexy high heels, then back up to her lovely green eyes. She shivered at his blatant perusal of her cleavage.

"How could it possibly matter where it is?" she asked him, but instead of the chastising tone she was aiming for, her voice came out as low and seductive as his was.

He shrugged. "Just curious." He reached out a hand to try to frisk her for it, but she stepped out of reach.

"We're working tonight, and I need to focus on the job."

He grinned at how he was making her as off-kilter as he was in her presence.

"You need to move your car and stay out of sight," she warned him. "Clive could be here any minute."

He didn't stir. "Clive is never early." He was enjoying watching her, analyzing her reaction to him and allowing himself to fully experience his own reactions to her reactions. It was a dizzying, yet keenly exciting prospect. She was meeting his eyes bravely, and his own flicked down to see how her chest rose and fell in a decidedly rapid manner.

"I can't stop thinking about it either," he commiserated quietly.

"Well we need to," she said, not bothering to deny his suspicion, or to cover her slight breathlessness. "And when you look at me that way, you make things much more…difficult."

"Maybe if I kissed you, got it out of our systems for awhile—" He made a determined step toward her.

She laughed, holding up her hands and stepping back again. "Nice try. Now get in your car and scoot. And Jane, for the love of God, stick to the plan, will ya?"

"I'll do my best, Lisbon," he said, then, with one more disconcerting sweep of his eyes over her body, he eased himself gingerly into his car (mindful of the pain frozen peas just couldn't erase) and drove away to lay in wait for Clive.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane had driven with Cho enough to know how to effectively tail someone, so he stayed a safe distance behind Clive's Porsche convertible as they drove to the restaurant on the edge of the city. Three French Hens was pretty fancy, with valet parking and everything. _Clive is really going all out. He must want something really badly for that cheapskate to shell out the cash like this_. Jane's jaw tightened as he parked across the street in a deserted office building lot and settled in to listen.

He'd clearly heard Lisbon and Clive's conversation on the way over through his headset. Just small talk about French cuisine, Sacramento tourist attractions, and more of Clive's put-on lawyerese. Lisbon played along well, never once giving away that she knew what a slimeball conman he was. The fact that Jane was being decidedly hypocritical about him was neither here nor there.

"This is lovely," Lisbon was saying as the hostess seated them.

"It is, isn't it," said Clive, the fake Irish accent firmly in place. "It's much fancier than me ol' pubs back home." Jane clicked on the transmitter so that now she could hear him as well.

"Can you hear my eyes rolling, Lisbon?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Lisbon said, as if replying to Clive.

There were the usual noises of the waiter filling their water glasses, drink orders given, menus offered and the specials recited.

"Everything sounds so wonderful, I have no idea what to order," said Lisbon, obviously looking at her menu.

"The cassoulet is usually good," Jane suggested in her ear.

"Hush," she said softly, and Jane grinned.

Clive had a suggestion of his own. "Have you ever had escargot? I know it sounds clichéd to order that at a French restaurant, but it really is quite tasty."

"Boy, he's laying it on thick," Jane commented.

"I think I'll have the cassoulet and a salad," Lisbon decided aloud, and Jane softly chuckled.

The waiter returned and took their orders, and the boring (to Jane) small talk continued. The soft sound of Lisbon buttering her bread made Jane remember he hadn't eaten.

"Can you bring me a doggy bag?" he asked Lisbon, over the sound of his growling stomach.

When their meal arrived, Lisbon moaned aloud at her first bite, then proceeded to make various other appreciative noises in her throat as Jane listened, closing his eyes at the sounds of ecstasy she made.

"You know, Teresa," he whispered, "you make similar noises when I'm kissing you senseless."

On the other end of the wire, she coughed suddenly, and he could hear her reaching for her water.

"Are you quite all right, Teresa?" asked Clive with his most sincere sounding concern.

"Yes," she croaked. "Something just went down the wrong way," she said meaningfully, and Jane was sure she was talking to him. He laughed.

"Sorry," he told her.

She ignored him and proceeded to go on a fishing expedition.

"So, it must be hard being the new kid in the SA's office. Are you having any trouble fitting in?"

Jane listened to the silence as Clive seemed to be hesitating. "Look, Teresa, I have a confession to make."

Jane sat up straight in his seat to be sure he heard every word.

"Oh?" Lisbon encouraged.

"It's about Patrick. You see, well…he's been lying to you, and forcing me to lie to you as well."

"What?" said Lisbon in surprise.

"Huh?" voiced Jane simultaneously.

Clive took a deep, exaggerated breath, then proceeded to tell Lisbon the biggest falsehood Jane could ever have imagined.

"I'm not really in the State's Attorney's Office. Not really even a lawyer at all."

"But you told me that you were," said Lisbon feigning shock at what he was telling her, yet actually very surprised indeed that he was confessing. Her voice became low and stern. "What's the meaning of this, Clive?"

"The righteous indignation is a nice touch," approved Jane.

"You see, Patrick is blackmailing me. It has to do with my sister."

"Sister?" said Jane. "He doesn't have any sisters."

"I think you'd better start at the beginning," Lisbon said coolly to Clive.

"A couple of weeks ago, I called Patrick to ask for his help. I'd heard that he worked for the CBI, and thought maybe he could put in a good word for my sister at her hearing."

"Totally false," inserted Jane.

"What did she do?" asked Lisbon, switching seamlessly into interrogation mode.

"It's all a big misunderstanding. She's in the middle of a messy divorce and was afraid her husband might harm her and the kids so she fled the state. She was arrested on kidnapping charges. Patrick had been my friend once upon a time; I thought he would help me, but he's changed."

"He's damn right I've changed," Jane railed into the microphone. "I'm nothing like that two-bit swindling—"

Lisbon cleared her throat loudly enough to make Jane end his rant.

"How is Jane blackmailing you, exactly?"

"He said if I didn't go out with you, keep you occupied for a few days, he'd use his connections to get Bonnie thrown in the pen for life. What's more, he told me to—and forgive me, this is very indelicate—he _ordered _me to sleep with you. That was where I drew the line, Teresa. I may be many things, but I'm not a gigolo, not even to save my sister."

Jane's laughter was almost deafening. She reached up to surreptitiously adjust the volume in her ear. Jane assumed Clive had leaned closer to Lisbon, for his voice became suddenly louder. "I could handle all the manipulation, except now, there's no one to speak up for Bonnie. Jane's planning something behind your back, Teresa. You can't trust anything he says or does now. And if he found out I haven't slept with you, that I've warned you about him, he might do something rather…rash."

"Like what?" Lisbon pressed.

"Like kill me to cover up whatever it is he's doing," Clive whispered.

"I seriously don't think Jane would hurt you," Lisbon said placatingly.

"Don't underestimate him, Teresa. I've seen his gun and everything."

"What utter bullshit," Jane muttered.

"So, let me get this straight. If I slept with you, then spoke at your sister's hearing, Jane would lay off of you?"

"I think so," said Clive. "But I need proof of the first, I'm afraid. He needs DNA evidence," he said, with just the right note of distaste.

"This is a very elaborate plan, even for Jane" Lisbon commented. "It's hard to believe he would do such a thing."

"Not hard for me to believe, unfortunately. I did work with him long ago, when he pretended to be a psychic. I'm not proud of it, but I guess you could say I was his shill. I'm perfectly aware of what Patrick Jane is capable of."

"Wow," Jane marveled. "This is really quite brilliant. Clive, you've come a long way."

"Look, I know this is a terrible imposition, but I'm no longer that man anymore," Clive said, continuing his con. "I'm going to law school part time to finally fulfill my dream of becoming a legitimate attorney. I would make it good for you, Teresa, I promise. I don't mean to further insult you, but I can tell you're lonely. We both are. And I've been so busy with school and worrying about Bonnie…but something good did come out of all of Jane's lies—I got to meet you and discover what a wonderful woman you are. And with your help, my sister could get out of jail and get her children back."

"Okay, I'm coming in," Jane said, having reached his tolerance limit.

"Uh, wait!" Lisbon said. Clive looked at her strangely, and she lowered her voice. "I'm sorry, Clive. Before you go on, I just need to get away for a minute. Won't you excuse me, please?" Jane was cussing so loudly in the background she was afraid Clive might hear. Lisbon reached for her cloth napkin and dabbed at her eyes, then sniffled a little for effect. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

Clive rose as she did. "Of course. I know I've laid a lot on you. I can understand if you need a moment."

"Yes, please. I'm sorry, Clive. I'll be right back, I promise."

Fortunately, Lisbon had noticed the restrooms were near the front entrance of the restaurant, and she made for them hurriedly, hoping to head Jane off at the pass. She spoke softly yet urgently into her wire, mindful of the curious gazes following the petite woman practically running for the door while seeming to be talking urgently to herself.

"I didn't give the signal, Jane! Stay outside, or so help me—"

"I'm gonna kill that lying bastard!" he said. She looked at the door and saw Jane enter, his eyes wide with barely suppressed rage. She looked back to see that Clive was seated again, facing the opposite direction. She grabbed Jane's arm and pulled him back outside, ripping the screaming earpiece from her ear at the same time. She led him forcefully by the hand to the alley behind the restaurant.

"Calm down, Jane. This is nothing. Easily handled and not nearly as bad as we thought it would be."

"He's trying to get you in bed, Lisbon. And this sister he's made up is probably an old lover—if there's actually an imprisoned damsel at all. He might just be trying to get back at me by getting you pissed off at me and getting into your pants."

"Oh, please—there's no chance of that. I'll just put him in his place and kick him to the curb—or in the crotch. End of story."

"No way. He knows where you live, Lisbon." He slapped his forehead with his hand. "Dammit! I forgot about that. Arrest him; shoot him…whatever. He's not gonna just let this thing go, understand? You have to be careful about this. Let him down gently, tell him you're not interested, because if there really is a Bonnie person, he wants her out of jail badly enough to sleep with you."

"Well, thanks a lot," Lisbon said, deeply offended, hands on her hips, "because of course he'd have to be desperate to want _me_."

He brushed her outrage aside with an annoyed waft of his hand. "You know what I mean." He stood, lost in thought, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

"There's nothing you can arrest him for?"

She shook her head. "He hasn't gotten money or any other favors from me. He hasn't actually practiced law that I know of, at least since the statute of limitations ran out when you two worked together. And no court in the land would convict a man for lying to get a woman into bed, otherwise, half the men in this restaurant would be in prison."

Jane had to chuckle at that observation, then he dropped his head to his chest, sighing in momentary defeat. "This is all my fault, Lisbon."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "I guess I'll just have to bite the bullet and sleep with him."

A wave of jealousy swept over him, even though he knew she was only joking. More quickly than Lisbon thought it possible for him to move, Jane had her back against the brick wall of the building, his hand cradling her head, his body pushing tightly against hers.

"Over my dead body," he bit out possessively, and claimed her lips for his own.

At first, she laughed against his mouth, shocked that he could be so overcome with jealousy, but at his insistent plundering, she began kissing him back with some insistence of her own. Jane's hand drifted over her bare shoulders, before pausing between the curves of her breasts. His heart raced as she made a noise of passionate encouragement against his mouth, and he began tracing concentric circles with his index finger around one perfectly shaped, taffeta-covered globe.

"Oh, Teresa…how I want you," he breathed, pausing to find some semblance of control before his first time in nearly six years was in the dirty alleyway behind an overpriced French restaurant. "But not here. It smells like the Parisian sewer system."

They both smiled and he gave her one more light kiss.

"Besides," Lisbon reasoned shakily, "Clive will be missing me. I need to get back in there and figure out a way to get rid of your conman friend."

"I can think of a few ways," Jane commented darkly.

"Do tell…_Patty_," said Clive from behind him. They heard the distinct sound of a cocked pistol in the quiet alley, and Jane felt the pressure of cold metal against the back of his head.

A/N: Yes, I did it—a cliffie! Reviews make me write faster, though ;).

Oh, and if you are interested in reading my "Moonlight" stories but have never watched the show, there's a mini marathon on the SYFY channel beginning early Tuesday morning (10/11). Check it out! You won't be sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So sorry to have left you hanging from that cliff for so long. Real life intervened, I'm afraid. I'm a teacher, and this is the end of the first quarter, so I had seemingly endless essays and tests to grade and scores to post. In return for your patience (and wonderful reviews), I've honored Littlemender's wish and written an extra-long chapter. Be advised that the last part is most certainly rated "M". I hope it was worth the wait!

**Chapter 7**

Jane put his hands up, his eyes zeroing in on Lisbon. She could tell he was more annoyed than frightened. She shook her head at him to try to prevent him from doing something stupid. An idiot with a gun was the most terrifying, in her opinion. He was more unpredictable, less stable, and Jane should be very afraid at that moment, not in any way cocky.

"Put the gun away, Clive," Lisbon said calmly over Jane's shoulder. "You hadn't broken any laws up until now, but you're racking up the charges every second you hold that weapon on a state agent."

"Back away from her, Patty," Clive ordered, ignoring her appeal, "and both of you, keep your hands where I can see them."

Jane did as he was told and backed up a few steps, then turned slowly to face his old partner.

"Don't be ridiculous, Clive. Put the damn gun away."

"Jane—" Lisbon began, her voice low with warning.

Clive chuckled. "Yeah, listen to the lady, my friend. Now, here's what's gonna happen. We are going to walk casually to your car, Patrick, since I don't want to spook the valet. I'll be right behind you, aiming the lovely Agent Lisbon's gun directly at your backs."

"That's _your_ gun?" Jane asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Yeah," she said angrily. "He apparently took it from my purse, which I left on the table inside along with my cell phone. I forgot it in my haste to get out here and save us from certain disaster of _your_ making." Jane felt instantly contrite.

"Any other weapons on you?" Clive asked, amused by her anger with Jane.

"No. I didn't think I'd have anything to fear from you," she told him, hoping he'd feel a little bit guilty. "But I always carry a gun, just in case."

"Pardon me if I don't believe you." He pointed the Glock at Jane while he moved to frisk Lisbon with his other hand. She gritted her teeth and bore his invasive, fondling search, while Jane clenched his hands into fists and made faint growls of protest, especially when Clive's hand slid up her inner thighs.

"How the hell could she be hiding something there?" Jane ground out.

"You can never be too careful with these law enforcement types," he said with a leer, enjoying Jane's rage, along with the feel of Lisbon's smooth dress and smoother skin beneath his hands. His fingers slid to Lisbon's lower back, and he felt the small transmitter of her wire. "You were recording me?" he said in disbelief. He yanked the device from the back of her dress, breaking the wires and tossing them uselessly to the ground.

"Yeah," Jane lied. "The rest of our team has been monitoring our entire conversation. They should be here any minute."

"Well, then we'd better get going, hadn't we? I know how much of a pussy you are about weapons, Patty, so I figure you're not packin', but I'm pretty sure you have a cell phone. Hand it over." Jane reluctantly complied, then Clive motioned at them with the gun. "Now, move."

"Where to?" asked Jane. "I took a cab."

"The hell you did. That old sixties mobile sticks out like a sore thumb. I saw you following us all the way from Teresa's apartment. I figured you were just being jealous, but now I suppose I've been conned by the expert."

_Damn Cho makes it look too easy._

They began to walk, pausing at the street corner before crossing against the light. Both of them were trying to think of how to overpower Clive without getting one of them killed. Lisbon decided to comply as much as possible, and wait until a more opportune moment, when Clive was less on his guard. She only hoped Jane would let her handle this and not try anything reckless. She began to pray to herself. Hard.

They stopped in back of Jane's car, and Clive ordered him to slowly remove his keys.

"Now, open the trunk. Sorry, Teresa, but I'm afraid you'll be riding in much less style than you arrived. I wanted to do this the easy way, but I'm going to have to adapt my plans to changing conditions. You used to say that's why you hired me, Patrick—my ability to change directions midstream."

"Yeah. But it's not too late to change your mind now, Clive. Let us go, go get your car from the valet and get the hell out of here. You could be halfway to Mexico before anyone knew where to look."

Jane looked at Lisbon regretfully, then at his spotlessly clean trunk. There wasn't even a crowbar back there to aid in her escape. He glanced at Clive for permission, then took off his suit coat and laid it in the bed of the trunk. He held Lisbon's hands while she climbed inside, squeezing them consolingly.

_Sorry, _ he mouthed as she lay down, curling her knees up in the small space.

"Shut the trunk," Clive told him. Jane did so, his last view of Lisbon in the pale glow of the street lights was of her mouthing: _Don't be stupid._

He nodded, unable to prevent his grin at her lack of faith in him, and shut the trunk door.

"Now what?" he asked Clive.

"You drive. Head north."

"Where are we going?" Jane asked as he got behind the wheel.

"I'll let you know when we get there. And don't speed or do anything to attract attention, or I shoot her through the back seat."

Jane drove awhile in silence, a disconcerting experience with a man pointing a gun at him from the passenger's seat. He worried about Lisbon in the trunk, trying hard not to hit any potholes and keeping the vehicle on as steady a course as he could.

"So, you've committed kidnapping now," Jane said conversationally as they merged onto the north-bound freeway. "What do you expect to come of this? Ransom? Nobody from the CBI will pay ransom, least of all for me," he mused.

"No, money isn't what I want. Tomorrow, I'll take Teresa to Bonnie's bail hearing and she'll put in a good word for her just like the original plan. You'll be safely tucked away as collateral until I get Bonnie out."

"But if bail's denied, that could be weeks, if at all," said Jane.

"Yes, it could," he replied coldly. "That's why Teresa had better pull out all the stops." Jane didn't want to hear anymore about that, so he changed tactics.

"Come on, Clive. This isn't your sister. You told me once you had no siblings."

He chuckled. "You always had a great memory Patrick. I should have known I couldn't fool you. You're right, of course. Bonnie is in fact my lover, my soul mate. I saw how her husband treated her—didn't appreciate what he had at all. Beautiful wife, beautiful daughter. I took her right from under his nose. When she got pregnant with my child I knew I had to get her away from him, but he hid her from me until she had the baby. I practically went out of my mind, you can imagine. Bonnie escaped and we were going to meet in Oregon, but the cops got her, accused her of kidnapping her own children. She's being held in San Francisco awaiting her bail hearing. When I get her out, we're just going to disappear."

Jane contemplated his sad story, realizing of course that Clive had surely romanticized much of it, had likely left out some key elements too.

"You were conning her husband, weren't you? He found out about that, found out about your affair with his wife, and took her away. Am I right?"

"Now, Patrick, why do you have to ruin such a beautiful love story? Yeah," he admitted wryly, " I took him for about half a mil—not that he would really miss it. Oh, and another thing…Bonnie shot her husband in order to get away. Not dead, unfortunately, but injured enough to piss him and the DA off. She's been denied bail."

Jane shook his head. "You still make the same old mistakes you used to, Clive. Getting involved with your marks. I'm not surprised it finally came back to bite you in the ass. So do the cops want _you _now?"

"Nah, no proof that I did anything other than knock up his wife. I covered my tracks with the investment scam. Still no convictions, Patty."

"Yeah, I'm sure your mother would be very proud," Jane said sarcastically.

"And so would your dad, if he could see you're working for the CBI."

Their comments silenced both of them a few moments, as Jane tried to focus on the drive.

"Where are we going?" he asked again.

"Someplace where I can keep you two safe until Teresa does her job for Bonnie. I really wanted to do this without force, but you two sort of made that impossible with your little plan to undermine me."

"Let us go, and she might do it for you anyway, if she finds out Bonnie is as innocent as you say. Lisbon is a very fair person," reasoned Jane.

"Sorry, I think I like my new plan better. She cares about you, so she's not going to do anything that would risk your worthless hide."

"Hmm," said Jane inexplicably.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the cramped trunk, Lisbon could only catch muffled words and phrases coming from the front of the car. She got the gist of Clive's new plan, and she started trying to think of ways to poke holes in it. He was right though; she wouldn't do anything to risk Jane's life, so she'd speak for Bonnie if she had to, and nail Clive to the wall later, once Jane was released unharmed. Besides, there might be plenty of opportunities in a court house to get a message to her team somehow. This was a last-minute idea of Clive's, so she was certain he hadn't had time to think of everything, to prepare for every eventuality. That was how she would get them out of this, by waiting and watching for the right opportunity.

An hour must have passed, and she found herself thinking of her time earlier with Jane, lying on his motel room bed, his lips devouring hers. Then later, in the alley, as his hand caressed her breast and she felt so aroused and lightheaded she thought she might faint. It was amazing to her how quickly things had changed between them. Her feelings of friendship had twisted into something infinitely more intense, exciting, and a little bit scary. She had no idea where this could possibly lead, no idea where she might fit into Jane's life, but she was intrigued enough to find out. If they got out of this alive—_when_, they got out of this, she amended-there was definitely something there worth pursuing.

But first she had to dig them both out of this hole Jane had dug for them.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Clive had directed Jane to a house on a remote rice farming road ninety minutes north of Sacramento. It was an old farmhouse, and Clive had dubbed it his childhood home. It seemed abandoned and on the dilapidated side, and Jane looked on it with much trepidation. His eyes strained in the darkness to see any signs of nearby humanity, but there was nothing but a faint scent, similar to popcorn, leftover from when the farmers burned the rice fields at the end of the growing season. Jane couldn't see any lights from nearby farms, and the farmhouse was dark save for the single outdoor security light near what looked to be a barn.

"Can we let Lisbon out?" Jane asked.

"Certainly. Go ahead. But don't try anything stupid, Patrick, or someone is liable to get hurt."

"Why does everyone seem to think I'm going to do something stupid?" Jane mumbled in irritation. He went round to the trunk and opened it. Lisbon took his hand thankfully and he reached in for his suit coat to drape over her shoulders against the cool night.

"Thanks," she said softly. Then, to Clive: "Where are we?"

"The house I grew up in. Isn't it lovely?" He took a deep breath. "Smell the cloying fragrance of my youth."

But he didn't seem particularly nostalgic. Being here seemed to irritate Clive on some deep level that Jane hoped to capitalize on later. Their captor directed his hostages toward the front steps of the old home, then he reached into his pocket for a set of keys, flipping through the key fob until he found the right one. "Here, Patty, unlock the door. And don't—"

"I won't try anything stupid. Geeze, has no one any faith in me?"

He heard Lisbon's faint snort, and he grinned, squinting into the blackness of the porch to use the borrowed keys. He pushed the door open, and behind him and Lisbon, Clive flipped on a light. The illuminated interior was as Jane had expected: dusty old antique furniture with crocheted antimacassars spread everywhere in abandon. It smelled of settled dust and ancient newspapers. Clive wasn't distracted in the least by their surroundings, and the gun was constantly trained on one or both of them at all times. Jane certainly knew Lisbon could take Clive out with her bare hands, but she seemed content not to try anything yet. He figured she was waiting for a moment when Clive was off his game, but as of yet, Jane hadn't seen him fumble in any way.

"Walk down the hall," Clive ordered, and they did, passing old photographs on the walls of what they presumed were Clive's ancestors and even Clive himself. They came to a small bathroom not far down the hall and to the left.

"Welcome to your chamber for the evening. Get in, please."

Jane turned on the wall switch, surveying their new home. He and Lisbon walked inside, and Clive promptly shut the door behind them. They heard the finality of an old-fashioned key turning in the lock on the outside. Clive spoke to them from the other side of the door.

"As you will find, there is nothing inside that will help you escape, so you may as well just get comfortable and get some rest, especially you, Teresa. I'll try to find something of Mom's she might have left that would be suitable for your big day in court tomorrow. Sorry I can't offer you any refreshment, but the water's on so you won't die of thirst."

"Won't your mother care that you have strangers in her house?" Jane asked.

"Not a bit," Clive replied cheerfully. "She's in an assisted living facility now, and would be pleased this old place was housing company again. I would have sold it long ago, but she wouldn't hear of it. Now I'm glad I didn't sell it. It makes a perfect hideout. Very remote. Not a neighbor for miles to hear you call for help."

He paused, and they could hear the mischief in his voice. "Sorry that our date ended so abruptly, Teresa—I was so hoping for another kiss…"

Jane shot Lisbon a look, although he wasn't surprised by Clive's intimation. He'd suspected Clive had kissed her the day he'd interrupted their Sunday plans.

Lisbon shrugged. "I've had better," she called back to Clive spitefully, smiling at Jane, whose answering, slow grin made her heart beat faster. For once she didn't mind boosting his already impressive ego.

Clive's answering chuckle faded down the hall along with his footsteps on the old wooden floor, and despite his advice to the contrary, Lisbon and Jane began scouring the small, windowless room. But he had been right; the medicine cabinet was completely empty, as were the drawers and cabinets beneath the sink and above the toilet, save for a few old bath towels. The bathroom had no windows, not even a mirror that could be broken and used as a weapon. Jane tried the doorknob of the heavy old door and attempted to turn it slowly, but it wouldn't open. There was nothing in the room or on his person that he could use to pick the keyhole, either. Lisbon's hair was down, so he had no hope for a hairpin from that quarter. They were apparently locked in for the duration.

Through unspoken agreement they gave up their fruitless search, Lisbon sitting on the covered toilet seat, Jane the lip of the curtainless bathtub. He ran his fingers through his hair with some agitation.

"Will apologizing again make any difference?" he asked her with a sheepish smile.

"No, so don't even bother," she replied tiredly.

He reached across the short distance between them to her hands, and looked down at them, so small next to his. He laced their fingers together experimentally, still amazed that she was letting him, that it felt so natural. He brought one of her hands up to his mouth and kissed it, meeting her eyes. They were soft and moss green, her mascara smudged, the faintest trace of weary circles beginning to appear beneath them.

At the touch of his warm lips, she squeezed his hands, and he felt her pulse jump a little. It made him smile.

"It may seem inappropriate, Lisbon, given our situation and location, but I feel the intense desire to tell you how beautiful you are. I don't think I ever have done you justice in that regard, and I feel I've been quite remiss."

She looked around the old-fashioned bathroom, the theme of the décor Victorian, in keeping with the house. Everything was mauve and flowery, from the wallpaper, to the rug on the floor, to the matching, fluffy toilet lid cover she sat upon.

"You're right, it is inappropriate, but leave it to Patrick Jane to profess his admiration while I'm sitting on a commode in the middle of a kidnapping."

His eyes twinkled at her. "It just seemed right somehow."

"Well, thank you," she said wryly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Impulsively, she leaned forward and touched her lips gently to his, and he reveled in her first time to take the initiative in their budding physical relationship. It was simple and sweet, and he felt it all the way to his slightly sore groin.

"Speaking of commodes," she began shyly, pulling away just when things were getting interesting. "I sort of need to…" He looked slightly confused after their kiss, but then it sank in after one slow beat.

"Oh," he said at last, his eyes widening almost comically. "Oh." Despite her mild embarrassment, Lisbon chuckled. He looked almost panicked.

"Sorry, I had two glasses of wine," she explained.

"No, uh…I'll just go stand facing the door, while you…"

"And plug your ears," she instructed.

"What?"

"I won't be able to go if I know you're listening."

It was Jane's turn to chuckle. "Performance anxiety? I never would have thought that of you, Lisbon."

"Just shut up and turn around."

He did so, and could hear the slight rustling of taffeta. He squeezed his eyes shut at the idea that she was half-naked behind him.

"Ears, Jane," she reminded sternly, pausing in her task.

"Oh, of course." He raised his hands to cover his ears, and then he smiled when she turned on the water at the sink for good measure.

Lisbon quickly did her business, flushed the toilet and washed her hands, feeling relieved at least in that regard. She turned off the water.

"Okay," she informed him.

"Huh?"

"Oh, stop; you heard me."

Jane turned around in amusement. "Feel better?" he asked politely. She just gave him an annoyed look. Jane resumed his seat on the edge of the tub.

"How long before anyone will miss us?" he asked her gravely.

"Might be sooner than we think. Also in my purse was my badge and ID. If Clive didn't think to dispose of them, I imagine the restaurant won't delay in contacting the CBI to tell them an agent of theirs disappeared without taking her stuff."

Jane nodded. "Good to know. I seriously doubt Clive thought to take your purse. He isn't always the sharpest tool in the shed, as you can tell by this hastily planned kidnapping. "

"Then why did you work with him?" she asked curiously.

"He was a good actor, and willing to overlook basic morality in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. At the time, that was good enough for me. Besides, I only used him occasionally. I was basically a one-man show. I'd had enough of teamwork when I'd had to work with my father."

"The Boy Wonder had an overbearing Dad Wonder."

Jane's lips quirked. "Something like that." But the last thing he wanted to talk about was his father. He steered the conversation back to their current predicament. "Maybe our team will get hold of the restaurant security tapes and trace his car's tag number."

"With that information, they might be able to determine his possible destination, say an old family home?" she suggested. Then a thought occurred to her. "Is Clive Edmonds his real name?"

"Yes. He still uses it because he's never been convicted of anything, the bastard. Until after this debacle, that is," he said hopefully. "I sincerely hope he rots in jail for this."

Lisbon tsked in mock censure. "One should never cast stones, Jane."

He conceded her point with a smile. Lisbon reached down to unstrap her high-heeled sandals, setting them neatly on the floor. She flexed her feet in relief.

"I don't see how women can wear these things all day."

"They make the sacrifice because it makes their legs look so good," Jane explained in appreciation. He reached for her foot and began to massage her aching arch. She couldn't help the soft moan of pleasure, as his strong, warm hands worked at the tired tendons. She leaned back against the back of the toilet. Jane watched her face relax and occasionally contort into an expression of intense bliss, and he swallowed a little, thinking this must be what she looked like in the throes of passion.

"You know," he said casually, "I've always wondered about the merits of reflexology. Some say it's bunk."

"What do you mean?" murmured Lisbon languidly.

"If I press on certain areas of your feet, it's supposed to positively affect corresponding areas of your body. Here, for instance-" and he began ministering to the area around her big toes—"should ease your shoulders, where I know you must hold a lot of tension." She emitted an encouraging little sound at his manipulation. "So," he asked curiously. "Is it working?"

"Oh…absolutely…"

He smiled. "And if I press here—" he moved to her other tiny toes—"you should feel relief between your eyes, where I can see one of your headache's been coming on."

"Mmmm…"

He continued in this vein for some time, his voice infinitely soothing, naming the parts he hoped to relax in her, switching feet and chuckling when she protested a little. He worked his way to her ankle, and when he hit a certain spot, her eyes flew open and her legs trembled a little.

"What—what was that?"

She met his eyes, hers suddenly glazed with sensuality, his fiery with excitement that perhaps reflexology wasn't bunk after all.

"What did it feel like," he asked hoarsely. She flushed in embarrassment.

"Maybe you should uh…avoid that area." He happily went back to the other parts of her delicate feet, his pulse still pounding at his own daring. He'd certainly be exploring the wonders of reflexology again sometime…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours passed, and they both moved to the floor, dragging the bath mat closer to the cold, cast iron bathtub so they could stretch out a little and lean against it.

Lisbon cuddled up to his side, and Jane felt the immense joy of having her fall asleep, her head resting on his chest, one arm wrapped around her to pull her closer. He reached for his discarded jacket and draped it over her, kissing the top of her fragrant head as he too closed his eyes and tried to rest.

Sometime in the night, while they both dozed, Jane heard the distinctive sound of his own car starting. A few seconds later, the engine's purring faded away, the tires crunching on the gravel leading to the county road.

"Lisbon," he whispered, hating to wake her, but realizing this might be the break they'd been looking for. She stirred, but shifted and snuggled closer.

"Teresa," he said, more loudly, jostling her a bit more. "Clive's left us."

"Huh?"

He repeated himself, and she was suddenly wide awake. He helped her to her feet and they both stretched aching muscles.

"Any ideas where he might have gone?" she asked.

"No clue. But now we should try breaking down the door, don't you think?" They hadn't attempted it for they knew Clive would have been drawn by the noise and would threaten to shoot them if they didn't stop.

Jane tried first, although there wasn't much room in the little bathroom to build momentum to slam against it as hard as he would have liked. He ended up with just an aching shoulder out of the bargain. The heavy, solid door would not budge.

He tried kicking near the door knob, but to no avail.

"Let's try ramming into it together," Lisbon suggested. Jane had his doubts, but humored her anyway. They didn't even make a crack.

"Sheesh," Jane commented in reluctant admiration, "they should armor all the CBI vehicles with whatever the hell that door is made of."

"Here, I have an idea," she said suddenly, turning to the toilet. She removed the heavy lid to the tank, and Jane rushed to help her with the heavy piece of porcelain.

"Interesting battering ram," he grinned. It was as solid and old as the rest of the house, but it might very well do the trick. They both held one end, then, on a count of three, they slammed it into the door. It made an awful racket, but did nothing except jar their arms and shoulders painfully. They tried it again anyway. And again. And again. The last hit broke the toilet lid jaggedly in two, and they stepped back quickly, lest the shattered porcelain land and injure their feet. Lisbon looked spitefully at the broken lid on the floor, dangerously sharp and pointed where it had broken apart.

"At least we have some sort of a weapon now," she said without much conviction, bending to pick up then brandish a wicked looking shard. She threw it down in disgust.

"Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" Lisbon exclaimed suddenly, and began pounding fruitlessly on the door with her fists. Jane moved behind her, stilling her hands and turning her around. Without missing a beat, he picked her up at the waist like she weighed nothing and set her and her bare feet safely back on the bath mat. He pulled her shaking frame into his arms, holding her as her chest heaved in silent aggravation and hopelessness.

"Shh," he said against her hair, his hand going up to caress its softness, while the other massaged her back consolingly. "Clive needs us, and when he comes back, we'll see our chance, and you can pummel him as hard as you did that damn door."

He felt her smile against his chest.

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled against his vest.

"You're thanking me now?" he said ironically. "I thought I was to blame for all of this."

She pulled away to look up at him with some affection. "You are, but I wouldn't want to be kidnapped by a con man, stuffed into a trunk, and locked in an old bathroom with anyone else but you."

"Why, Lisbon," he grinned coyly, "are you trying to tell me you've forgiven me?"

"No," she said. "But you can go ahead and kiss me anyway. I can tell you want to."

"Don't go attempting your amateur mentalist tricks on me, missy," he cautioned, his eyes sparkling down at her.

"I'm right though, aren't I," she said, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, then to his nape.

"Just a lucky guess," he said, before he pulled her closer and planted his full lips firmly against hers.

_He's seducing me, _she thought in wonder, as his mouth toyed with hers. _Patrick Jane is seducing me. And I'm letting him. Happily._

He was building the tension to a fever pitch, each arousing thrust of his tongue meant to draw her in more deeply, each caress of her back an irresistible invitation to take more of what he was giving. And she did, her hands slipping recklessly into his curls, her mouth opening wider to his demanding explorations. He was an expert at this, as he was in most everything else, and her legs weakened, then bent as he guided her to her knees on the rug beneath their feet, following her to the floor with a sensual grace. He continued his forays into her hot mouth, not once breaking contact, while his hands slid around her to pause questioningly at her zipper.

She moaned and deepened their kiss even further, which Jane took as an unqualified _yes_. The sound of the zipper and their ragged breathing echoed loudly in the small room, and Jane released her lips so he could witness what was for him a monumental moment. He gently pulled down her dress, and nearly laughed with glee at what he'd revealed: a strapless bra of deep red lace.

His excited gaze rose to meet hers as she blushed a similar shade of red.

"Would it be too weird to mention how much I adore your friend Amy at this moment?" he asked, his voice breaking a bit as he gauged her reaction.

"Yes," she said, and brought both his hands up to cup her breasts through the soft fabric.

"Amy who?" he grinned, inordinately pleased by her forwardness. He caught her lips again, and brushed his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped and began unbuttoning his clothes with an eagerness that had Jane smiling against her mouth.

Jane could hardly believe this was happening, and without warning, he felt a twinge of guilt as a vision of his wife flashed before him. He remembered the very last time he'd made love to her, the day before her death, and that memory had been permanently etched upon his mind and heart. Her sighs, her soft moans, the feel of her skin, her smell…He'd lived off those moments the past five years, as painful as they were, for he'd convinced himself that that would be the last time he'd ever want another woman. His movements must have stilled as the memories flooded back, for Lisbon paused and drew back from him.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "We don't have to—"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just…" He swallowed against the unexpected lump in his throat. "It's been five years, Teresa," he finished simply, but the ramifications of what he'd said were felt deeply by both of them.

"I thought so," she managed, her hand caressing his now bare chest. "I mean, I know how much your wife meant to you. I know this is happening fast between us—"

He brought his hands up to rest on her cheeks. "I want this. I want you. I will always miss her, but you are my now, okay? You aren't her competition, I swear."

She was glad he'd said that, for his feelings for his wife must have been significant indeed to keep him celibate until now. Lisbon had an overwhelming rush of something akin to…_honor_. She knew he wouldn't take this lightly, and it was perhaps a little frightening just how meaningful it would be for them both.

"I'll be gentle with you," she teased, her humor setting them both at ease emotionally, at the same time reviving the heated mood of moments before.

He grinned, and the sweetness of his smile made Lisbon quiver inside.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon, but I can't make the same promise."

With renewed vigor, he attacked her mouth again, his hands releasing her bra clasp and moving to feel her naked breasts with desperate hands. She shuttered and his mouth left her lips to glide down her neck, lingering at her collarbones, nibbling with clear intent toward his handfuls of creamy, warm flesh.

Lisbon had never known anything as erotic as Jane's incredibly soft hair against her bare chest, that is until his mouth found one taut nipple, and he began teasing and rolling it with his tongue and teeth.

"Oh, God…Jane…"

She clasped him to her bosom, her heart pounding against his cheek as waves of pleasure rushed over her. He moved to her other breast, devoting equal attention there, the sounds of her pants and whimpers turning him on as much as the exposed skin she was allowing him to caress with abandon.

He laid her gently to the deep rug, watching her half-closed eyes as he pulled her dress down her slim hips, his breath catching as he saw the matching lace panties. But Lisbon's hands weren't idle either, and they moved to his fly, undoing the metal fastener of his slacks, drawing down the zipper with as much eagerness as he had her dress. She reached inside and stroked him, the air hissing sharply through his teeth at the pleasure one touch had brought him.

"Are you in pain?" she whispered, looking up at him with smoky eyes.

"Not the kind you mean," he reassured her, his voice shaking with feeling.

He lowered himself over her, while her hands reached beneath his boxers and around to his behind, cupping his firm buttocks with thrilling hands. He kissed her deeply again before getting quickly to his feet to remove the remnants of his clothing and shoes, tossing them aside to join her dress and bra, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped short as he saw her slide her panties down her toned thighs, revealing at last the complete beauty that was Lisbon, a vision he never had allowed himself to even imagine.

"You're a work of art, Teresa Lisbon," he said, awestruck and trembling. Her answer was to pull him back down to her waiting body, immediately entwining her smooth legs with his lightly furred ones. She felt his hardness pressing against her core, and she was breathing so hard that she felt the edges of her world begin to go black.

"Damn," he muttered against her mouth.

"What?" she asked blankly. She felt bereft as he left her a moment, fumbling for his pants and the wallet still in the back pocket. He opened it and withdrew a small packet.

"I uh, bought this yesterday," he explained nervously.

She observed his sudden insecurity with amusement. "You were that certain of me, were you?"

"No," he said, tearing open the foil with a small smile, "just hopeful."

She was actually both touched and turned on by his forethought and care for her welfare.

She took the condom from his hands. "Here, allow me."

He practically came unglued as she slowly slipped on the latex barrier, drawing out the task with deliberate torture. He was certainly going to make her pay dearly for that. His hand slipped between them and he slid one finger over her moist heat, circling there until she groaned in impending climax. He moved to join with her body, pausing to look into her face.

"Teresa," he whispered. "I need to see your eyes."

She opened them as he commanded, and she looked upon him with a glittering green gaze.

"Now," she begged him. "Please, Jane. I feel like I'm dying here…"

With one more kiss, he moved into position and entered her slowly, achingly, until she grasped his buttocks in frustration and pushed him all the way inside.

He made a strangled noise in his throat, which quickly turned into a moan as she bucked her body against him, pleading with him to pick up the pace and take her harder. As he felt her enclose tightly around him, he couldn't have slowed down even if he'd wanted to.

"Awww…Teresa…" her name spilled forth mindlessly, symbolic of the endless joy he felt to be so completely connected to her at last.

They began a rhythm as in sync as their every past argument, as in time as their every spate of good-natured banter. Just as they had always done, each gave as good as they got, their mental and emotional bond manifesting in the most physical way possible. It was a melding of all aspects of their relationship, a culmination of minds and bodies so complete Jane felt his own tears mingling with the sweat of exertion.

Within minutes, Lisbon cried out, her convulsive movements bringing him over with her, shuttering through him as he rode out the indescribable ecstasy built up from five long years of self-denial.

Jane panted into her damp neck, then gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly, their bodies still joined, their hearts near bursting in shared elation.

A/N: Phew! I don't know about you, but I for one feel much better now, lol.

Thanks for reading this monster of a chapter. I'm on Fall Break next week, so hopefully I'll have time to add more very soon. As always, I really appreciate your kind feedback!

P.S.: I know that rice farmers don't burn rice fields in California much anymore, but I was raised partly in Colusa County, and I couldn't resist including a distinct memory from my childhood—burning rice fields that really did smell like buttered popcorn.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks so much to all who have reviewed/favorite/alerted this fic. You really do keep me encouraged and focused. And your kind words are really amazing! This chapter isn't as long as the last (that was unusually long for me), but there is a lot going on in this one. I hope you like car chases…

**Chapter 8**

Lisbon was awakened by a loud growling in her ear, and she opened her eyes, disoriented and a little sore. She realized the noise was coming from Jane's stomach, a little south of where she had lain her head.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. Unlike some people, who got a gourmet dinner last night."

She chuckled, rubbing his stomach in sympathy. "You poor thing. That reminds me, though; I bet Clive didn't even pay for that meal. If you recall, we left a little suddenly."

"We'll go back and double tip them later."

"_If_ we ever get back there again," she said softly. It wasn't like her to be so pessimistic. Except for his empty stomach, Jane was happier and felt more optimistic than he had in years, and he knew in his heart they would get out of this as they always did; it was only a matter of how. He adjusted the rolled up towel he'd used as a pillow and drew Lisbon closer beneath his suit coat.

"Stop all that negativity, right now." He lifted her chin to look at her. "I bet the sun is about up and pretty soon we'll be out of this wretched bathroom."

She shifted up to kiss him. "I know. And I don't think this bathroom is so wretched actually," she said, grinning in remembrance of the happy hours they'd spent there so far. He smiled and pulled her up to deepen the kiss.

Earlier, Jane had wanted a round two, but unfortunately he had only been hopeful enough to bring one foil packet. Lisbon had suggested that there were other things they could do, and proceeded to prove it with her mouth and hands, while he gladly returned the favor. It was very early in the morning before they rinsed off in the shower (which nearly led them to a round three), dressed again, and dozed lightly on the cold floor.

Their kiss was interrupted by the sound of Jane's car rolling into the driveway. They sat up and listened as the front door opened, and footsteps sounded in the hardwood entryway.

"Hi honeys, we're home!" Clive called, and they were surprised to hear a second voice, chuckling at Clive's little joke.

Jane and Lisbon looked at each other. Apparently Clive had brought reinforcements. Jane put on his jacket and reached for the shard of porcelain they'd saved from the toilet tank lid, the rest of which they'd tossed into the cupboard beneath the sink in hopes that Clive wouldn't notice anything amiss. Jane deposited the improvised weapon into his jacket pocket.

After several heavy steps from the hall, there came a loud knock on the bathroom door.

"You two descent?" Clive asked.

_He's drunk, _Jane mouthed, wide-eyed.

"Sure," Jane said aloud. "Do come in." He reached automatically for Lisbon's hand, which she squeezed back in commiseration.

It was hit and miss for the drunken kidnapper to get the old key in the lock, but eventually he opened it, and they stood facing Lisbon's Glock again. Clive no longer appeared as put-together as usual. His tie was missing, his shirt untucked, his black hair hanging in his eyes. Stubble darkened his face, and his eyes were glassy and red. Some blue fabric hung suspiciously over his left shoulder.

He tossed in a box of Twinkies, which Jane caught deftly in one hand. "Here ya go—breakfast of champions! You didn't think I'd forget to feed the animals, did ya?"

More laughter from down the hall.

"Who's your new guest?" Jane asked casually.

"I realized I needed a babysitter for you Patty, and my friend Ray was kind enough to volunteer. Say hi, Ray!" Clive suddenly yelled so loudly that Jane and Lisbon visibly cringed.

"Hi!" called Ray from the living room.

"Oh, and here, Teresa," Clive slurred. He tossed her the dress he'd slung over his shoulder. "Here's your court clothes. I always liked Mama in this. Ahh…Mama…why'd you have to go and get old? You could have been here to help me with Bonnie and our baby…" He seemed on the verge of a crying jag as he tossed Lisbon Mama's old dress. She caught it and looked down at it in dismay.

"Put that on and be ready to go to court in thirty minutes," Clive ordered, wiping his watering eyes in annoyance. The door closed abruptly between them, and the key jiggled tremulously in the lock.

Lisbon held up the dress—a travesty of paisley and polyester. Unfortunately, it looked like it would fit her perfectly.

"Seriously?" she said plaintively, turning the garment this way and that.

Jane chuckled. "You know, when I was a kid, I used to think paisley resembled little spermatozoa."

"Ha-ha. Shut up. There's no way I'm wearing this."

"He'll shoot you if you don't." Jane sounded inappropriately happy about that possibility.

"Fine," she sighed in exasperation. She turned around. "Unzip me."

He set his breakfast on the sink vanity.

"Okay, but he only gave us thirty minutes," Jane said suggestively, raising her hair and nibbling on the back of her neck. She shivered.

"Stop that." He continued on until she squirmed, stepping away from his heated assault.

He chuckled sexily. "Okay, but I'm not used to unzipping you without getting something out of it." He pulled the zipper down and she stepped out of her wrinkled dress. She turned around and he feasted on her red lace underwear. "On the other hand…" he amended, his eyes roaming her body hotly.

He watched with a mixture of disappointment and amusement as she replaced her sexy little black number with the horrid costume of Mama Edmonds. It buttoned up the front all the way to her neck, and hung way past her knees. If one were to look up _unbecoming _in the dictionary…

"Thank God there's no mirror in here," Lisbon mumbled, smoothing down the apocalyptically wrinkle resistant fabric.

"Indeed," concurred Jane, opening the box of snack cakes. He wolfed down two before tossing Lisbon one.

"So, any insight into how to handle Clive?" she asked him, slipping on her clashing high heels from the night before.

"Well, as you can tell, he has some definite oedipal tendencies. He hates for you to point out his weaknesses or shortcomings—definitely not a guy who takes constructive criticism well. He's a fake in all aspects of his life. Since he's drunk, all of these characteristics will be magnified. Fortunately, you're a beautiful woman, so he'll still turn on the charm to try to impress you, even though you're his victim. With you in his mother's dress, you'll be a force to be reckoned with." He couldn't help chuckling at the irony. He took another bite of Twinkie.

"I'm more worried about a drunk with a gun," Lisbon said, scowling. "But I might turn on some charm of my own, play up his sicko hangups. Maybe call him _sonny boy _or something."

Jane held her shoulders, suddenly serious. She sensed his shift in mood and looked up into his troubled eyes. "You're right, Teresa. His drunkenness makes him infinitely unpredictable. Please be careful; do everything he says. Don't take any unnecessary risks. When you're in the court house, he won't be able to bring his gun and you'll be surrounded by cops. Make your move then. Don't worry about me back here. Do what you need to do to free yourself." He patted the sharp porcelain in his pocket. "I'll do what I need to do here with Ray."

She moved her hands up to his chest, looking at him intensely. "It works both ways, Jane. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times, don't do anything—"

"Stupid, I know. Your confidence in my ability to make intelligent choices is truly inspiring."

To ease the sting of his sarcasm, he leaned down and kissed her passionately.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They'd smelled coffee—much to Lisbon's further torture—so Clive must have made an attempt to sober up some. He opened the bathroom door, looking somewhat less haggard, though the ravages of a hard night were still evident in his drooping features and bloodshot eyes.

"Let's go get Bonnie," he said shortly, using the gun to motion Lisbon out. Jane made a halfhearted attempt to follow, but Clive held up a hand.

"Not so fast, loverboy. You're staying here with Ray." Ray moved into view, and Jane had to crane his neck to see the man's face. He must have been close to six feet, five inches, with a chest like a barrel and arms like tree trunks. He would have been even more imposing, however, had he not been obviously hung over.

"Well, I'm flattered, Clive. You felt the need to hire a member of the Brute Squad to guard me. Nice to meet you, Ray."

Jane stuck out a polite hand, but the crew-cut strongman crossed his arms belligerently, ignoring Jane's overture of friendship. Jane dropped his hand humorously a moment later.

"Take a good long look at Patty now, Teresa. If I don't touch base with Ray at certain appointed times, he has orders to break Patty's neck with his bare hands."

"Yeah, Lisbon. Behave, okay? I mean, Ray looks quite formidable." But he grinned to show he wasn't really afraid. Jane had long been able to use his wits against nearly every opponent, no matter how physically imposing, and he had no doubt that Ray would be no exception. Lisbon didn't look so confident.

"Jane—" she began, holding his hand longingly, fear clearly etched in her tired features. Their night of lovemaking had forged a deeper bond than either had predicted, and the thought of her leaving him was like a physical ache. It was taking them both by surprise, and Jane couldn't even bring himself to believe that it was just the situation causing him to feel that way. He swallowed against a lump in his throat.

"Go, get this over with," he whispered. "I'll be fine. We'll _both_ be fine."

Then, to everyone's acute surprise (especially her own) she pulled Jane's mouth down to hers and kissed him with all the pent-up fear and emotion in her heart. It was so completely unlike her that it took a few beats for Jane to respond, but when he did, he brought her body tightly against his, uncaring of their annoyed audience. They were both attempting to brand this moment on their minds just in case the worst happened.

"Okay, okay," Clive interrupted, massaging his temple with his free hand. "Enough. Let's go, Agent Lisbon."

At Clive's pointed nod, Ray interposed himself between the lovers, separating them as easily as a hot knife through butter. Jane pretended to fall against the giant, causing Ray to have to push him roughly away. Jane nearly fell into the sink vanity, while Lisbon looked on in anger.

"You don't have to be such a caveman," she griped. "He's half your size."

It really was amusing to see such a tiny woman staring down the Jolly Green Giant. Even more humorous was that the big guy actually flinched, but he snapped out of his hung-over daze and grabbed Lisbon's arm, pushing her out the door and slamming it behind them. Clive turned the key once again in the lock, and Jane found himself alone.

"See ya, Lisbon," Jane called through the door.

"Sit tight, Jane," she called. "And don't worry, I'll be-"

Her reply was muffled as she was pushed down the hall, but he could hear her cussing and griping as Ray held her arm too tightly. He grinned fondly when he heard her call him a sideshow reject. A few minutes later, and he heard the Citroen start and make its way again down the gravel driveway.

Jane spared one more worried glance at the door before he reached into his jacket pocket. With a satisfied grin, he pulled out Ray's purloined cell phone, and proceeded to punch in Cho's number, which naturally he knew by heart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon buckled her seatbelt and took the wheel of Jane's car for the first time ever, happy to be out in the natural light. It was surprisingly peppy and easy to drive, but much of her pleasure at being out of her prison was taken away by the man sitting beside her, pointing the gun at her side.

"Jane told me about your situation with Bonnie," Lisbon said. "I wish you had just told me about it to begin with. I might have been able to help sooner."

"Patrick would have stopped you. He hates me. I remind him of who he really is."

"Who he _once_ was," Lisbon corrected.

Clive shrugged, then began rooting through Jane's glove compartment. He was gratified when he found a bottle of aspirin, and Lisbon watched him down four of them without water.

"People don't change that much, Teresa. Once a grifter, always a grifter. He conned you only last weekend, remember?"

She couldn't argue with that. It still pissed her off to think he'd paid Clive to go out with her. She gritted her teeth and changed the subject.

"Which way do I go?" she asked, as they emerged off the county road to the freeway. Jane had told her the route he'd driven the night before, so she was fairly sure they were in Colusa County.

"Go south, toward San Francisco. That's where the hearing is in about three hours."

She merged with southbound traffic.

"You look lovely in that dress, by the way," said Clive unexpectedly. "Blue is your color, just like it is for Mama. You're quite a beautiful woman, Teresa. Too bad I'm already taken."

"You sound like you're very close to your mother," she said, suddenly uncomfortable about trying to charm her captor. "How would she feel about what you're doing?"

Clive snorted. "She thinks I'm an investment banker. And I've told her about Bonnie and the baby, how we plan to get married soon."

"How's this going to work, Clive? You think that once she's out of jail, you'll be able to get away with what you've done?"

"That's the plan. Patrick's my insurance."

"What will you do if I my input doesn't help her get released? You gonna kill me? Kill Jane?"

"I don't think you want to find out that answer, Teresa. I suggest you pull out all the stops," he said tiredly. "Lie, fabricate, extol her virtues as a mother."

"But I don't know her, Clive. How do you expect me to do that convincingly?"

He sighed. "You're right. I'll tell you everything about her, everything I wish I could say if my opinion meant anything in court."

Lisbon listened as he went on to give the abbreviated version of their love affair and described Bonnie in the most subjective terms imaginable. She felt like she was watching bad theatre. After he'd finished his narrative, they drove in silence for awhile.

Lisbon kept one eye trained on Clive, watched how his head would droop and he'd catch himself, then shake his head violently to try to stay awake. If he would only drift off she could make her move, or maybe drive to a police station.

Thirty minutes into the drive, she saw the police helicopter. She was suddenly sorry for all the bad things she'd ever said or thought about the Citroen, for it was certainly a distinctive car, and she couldn't imagine it was too difficult to see from the air.

Clive looked suspiciously into the sky, then tightened his grip on the Glock. He was totally awake now. Lisbon pretended not to notice his actions or those of the police copter, but inside, her heart was pounding at the possibility that the police might be looking for them. When the highway patrol car came up behind them, flashing his lights, Lisbon felt so keenly elated that it took all her strength not to grin like an idiot. _Keep it together, Teresa, _she told herself.

"Shit! Are you speeding?"

"No, Clive, I swear. I have no idea what he wants. How could anyone know where we are? Ray wouldn't have turned on you, would he?"

"No. I'm paying him too much. Keep driving."

"But what if it's nothing? What if a tail light is out or something? Do you really want a high-speed chase? There's no way you'll get Bonnie out if the police are on our tails."

"Keep driving," he maintained. The patrolman turned on his sirens behind them, and the helicopter flew in closer. Clive took out his cell phone and pressed his redial number. He let it ring until it went to voice mail, then he frantically texted. She assumed he was calling Ray.

"Dammit! Where the hell is he?" Clive turned around in his seat, then pressed the gun into Lisbon's ribs. "Step on it."

"It's over, Clive," she said calmly. "Pull over now before someone gets hurt."

Another CHP vehicle had joined its brother and Lisbon kept her speed steady in hopes that Clive would change his mind and see how futile this was now.

"I said, step on it!" He slid across the bench seat to the driver's side and mashed down on Lisbon's foot where it rested on the gas pedal. She gasped in pain and tried to maintain control as she overcompensated for Clive having bumped into the steering wheel. The car swerved dangerously, nearly running into the car in the next lane.

"All right, all right!" she yelled. "You're gonna get us killed!"

And then she saw her chance. Clive was turning around again, brandishing her gun and looking anxiously around him. Lisbon swerved hard in the other direction, throwing Clive against the passenger door. Her gun clattered out of his hands and into the floor boards. He reached blindly around on the floor for the Glock, but it was all the way in the back seat.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed. "Are you fuckin' nuts?"

Lisbon used his distraction to slam on the break. Without his seatbelt, Clive was thrown forward into the dashboard, then crashed back into the seat. A tremendous jolt in the rear of the car had Lisbon spinning out of control again, as the CHP car behind them plowed into their rear end. Lisbon hit her head on the steering wheel and bounced back into her seat as she coasted the Citroen to the shoulder of the road. She thought absently that Jane was going to kill her for what she'd let happen to his beloved car.

By then there were four CHP vehicles, and they immediately surrounded the Citroen. Lisbon emerged, hands in the air, as she felt the blood trickling down her temple. The sound of the low flying helicopter was almost deafening.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," barked one patrolman, while two of the others circled her, guns trained on her chest. The other man went to the passenger side of the Citroen, looking inside at the unconscious Clive. He pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance.

"Teresa Lisbon, CBI," she announced. One of the officers pulled out his cell phone and brought up her picture.

"That's her," he announced. They lowered their weapons.

"Sorry Agent," said the lead officer. "Captain Mark Adams, ma'am." He turned to a fellow officer. "Parker, get the first-aid kit for the lady, will ya?"

Lisbon wiped at her blood dismissively. "How'd you find me?" she asked, figuring that Cho must have tracked her down somehow.

"Your partner- Agent Jane, I think his name is—he called the CBI from the house where he's being held, but he was disconnected before they got an exact bead on him. Word was passed to us. Your team's on the way there now."

"What?" Lisbon said in shock. "Jane got hold of a phone? Is he all right? He's alone in that house with a colossus. We're closer to that house than my team is. Please, can you take me there right now, Captain, or loan me your car? And I'm gonna need my gun."

"I'll take you, Agent," volunteered Parker, a handsome young officer with sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The entire way back, Lisbon was nervously wringing her hands, staring out the window, willing the patrol car to go faster, despite its high speed and flashing lights. She could only imagine what must have gone down in Clive's mother's house. How'd he get a phone? Was he hurt? What might Ray be doing to him?

Knowing Patrick Jane, he'd probably thrown all her advice out the window and done something stupid anyway.

A/N: Yes, a cliffie of sorts. I'm already working out the next chapter though. Just one or two chapters to go on this one, folks. Please log in and make sure your PM capabilities are turned on (that means you, MissDonnie). I love to reply to your reviews! Oh, yeah, please review, will ya?


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I've been out of town a few days, mostly without internet access, but I did have my computer and was able to tap out this chapter. I'll get to your reviews of chapter eight very soon. I'm also working on the tag to "Blood and Sand," so I'll hopefully get that up tomorrow sometime, or Sunday at the latest. Until then, please enjoy…

**Chapter 9**

"Hey, Ray," Jane called through the door of his bathroom cell. "There's a call for you!"

He turned the ringer all the way up on Ray's phone and looked down at the caller ID. "Someone named…Ashley?"

Ray's voice boomed even from down the hall. "What? Where's my-? What the hell-?"

Jane answered the phone, continuing to speak unnaturally loudly. "Oh, hi, Ashley. No, Ray's not available. I think he had a long night, last night, maybe had a bit too much to drink. Wine, women, and song and all that. Who am _I?_ Well—"

There was a frantic, shuffling sound outside the bathroom, and Jane figured Ray had realized that a) his cell phone was missing, and b)he forgot where the bathroom key was.

"Shut the hell up about last night, man! You don't know shit!" Ray was yelling, having found the key and fumbling to open the archaic lock. The door finally swung open, and the giant barreled in like a charging bull.

"Well, what do you know, Ashley—here he is—"

Jane tossed the phone to Ray and ducked right before the man swung a massive arm. Ray dropped the phone, picked it up, and crammed it to his ear. Jane could hear the woman yelling through the mouthpiece. Ray's world seemed to narrow down to Ashley's voice for the split second that Jane needed to escape the bathroom. In Ray's haste, he hadn't removed the key from the lock, so Jane promptly shut the door behind him, locking it with a flourish.

Jane brushed his hands together in satisfaction, pocketing the key just as Ray began pounding furiously on the door .

"Trust me, Ray," he called over the swearing. "An angry grizzly bear couldn't get through that door. Oh, and…say good-bye to Ashley for me, would ya? She sounds like a lovely girl!"

His words were punctuated by another spate of hammering fists and threatening expletives.

Jane, unconcerned, moseyed down the hall toward the kitchen, wondering if Mama Edmonds had left any tea in the cupboard.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon instructed Parker to cut the sirens right before they turned down the county road leading to Clive's home. No need to alert Ray if they could avoid it, although she remembered how loud cars sounded on the gravel road. She had borrowed the patrolman's cell phone, and directed Cho as best she could on how to reach the place. In the meantime, she'd gotten Ray's cell number and continually redialed it, getting only voicemail. This was incredibly worrisome to her. She sat in the passenger's side of the patrol car, anxious and fidgety.

When the old farmhouse came into view, her heart leapt, then took flight when she saw Jane moving back and forth on the rickety porch swing, one arm resting on the back, the other blithely holding a flowered teacup. Before the car had completely stopped, Lisbon opened the door, nearly stumbling on the gravel in her high heels as she got out. She righted herself and looked up at Jane again, whose beatific smile completely belied what they'd been through the past twenty-four hours.

Lisbon gripped her Glock, her cop instincts causing her to search her surroundings before her eyes alighted again on the bemused consultant, who'd been carefully watching her from the moment the car turned into the drive. When she realized his scrutiny, Lisbon relaxed her features into an expression of casual interest and walked to the porch, pausing at the foot of the steps. Jane's smile widened as their eyes met, and Lisbon felt a grateful warmth spreading through her veins.

"Well, you don't look like a giant broke your neck," she said dryly. "How the hell did you manage that?"

Jane shrugged. "When slaying dragons, dear Lisbon, you must first find their weakness. Our friend Ray's is for a fair maiden named Ashley."

She cocked her head, as if anything he said was supposed to make sense. She'd likely find out the details later, when he felt more inclined to brag about them.

"Where's Ray now?" she asked. "Not bludgeoned to death with a shard of porcelain, I assume."

"Nah. You'll find him in the bathroom, pathetically begging Ashley to forgive him for his wild night of debauchery."

Parker joined Lisbon and looked askance up at Jane. She made polite introductions.

"You say the perp is trapped in a bathroom?" asked Parker.

"Yep," replied Jane. He watched Parker's hand drop to his holstered weapon.  
>"Given the size of the guy, you'll probably need an elephant gun," said Jane helpfully. "I wouldn't open that door without one, or at least more back-up."<p>

Parker looked suspiciously from Jane to Lisbon. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Lisbon confirmed. "My team should be here in about an hour. It won't hurt Ray to stew in the bathroom a little while longer."

"He might even come to like it in there," added Jane with a grin, deliberately avoiding Lisbon's flushing face. She cleared her throat and turned to Parker again.

"If you need to get back to the other scene on the highway, we'll be all right here."

He looked a bit uncertain of that, but, given the lack of action at this location, he felt a little anxious to return to his colleagues.

"Okay, if you're sure."

Lisbon held up her gun. "I'm sure. May I borrow your phone though?"

"Of course." He handed it back to her. "I'll have my car radio. CHP can contact me if you change your mind."

"Thanks, Officer. And thanks for the ride."

"No problem ma'am." He tipped his trooper's hat at her, and nodded good-bye to Jane.

They watched him leave before Lisbon climbed the stairs and sat beside Jane on the swing, setting her gun carefully on the small table beside it.

"Other scene?" Jane inquired, holding his tea out to Lisbon. She was thirsty, and took an appreciative sip.

"Yes, where Clive learned a good lesson on the merits of wearing seatbelts." Like her, he didn't bother asking for specifics, figuring they'd be repeating them enough to everyone else in the hours to come. He turned to her now, all pretense of casualness gone as he let the relief wash over him and touch his blue-green eyes. He reached up to smooth her hair away from her face, when she suddenly cringed and let out a small gasp. It was then that he noticed the bandage near her hairline, hidden before by her hair.

"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, but there was anger and danger in the gruffness of his tone as his gaze zeroed in on her injury.

"I smacked my head into your steering wheel. You know, you should really consider retrofitting that contraption with more modern conveniences, like air bags."

He pressed his warm lips against her forehead, closing his eyes against the unexpected sensation of fear and pain. He realized that now that he'd allowed himself to be close to her, he would always be afraid of losing her. It was just a byproduct of his past experience, and he knew instinctively that as long as they were together, these feelings would never leave him.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his herbal scented breath fanning her face. He gathered her into his arms, mindless of the tea that sloshed a little in the cup she held. "I'm sorry for all of it."

"It's okay," she told him, truly meaning it now. She shouldn't be surprised that once again, she'd forgiven him everything. It was so very hard to stay mad at such a wonderful, endearing man. "I'm all right. We both made it out of this alive."

He chuckled lightly and kissed her cheek.

"Hey!" came a plaintive cry from the vicinity of the bathroom. "Get me the fuck out of here, you crazy bastard!"

"Don't you just love nature, Lisbon?" he asked, settling them both against the back of the swing, his arm around her. "The smell of the burnt rice patties, the call of the wild loon…"

Lisbon laid took another sip of his tea and handed it back to him before laying her head comfortably upon his shoulder.

"Yes, it's very nice," she said drowsily, "if a little on the loud side…"

"Lisbon," he inquired a moment later, just as she was beginning to doze from the rhythm of the swaying swing.

"Hmm?"

"Where's my car?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rigsby and Van Pelt arrived at Clive Edmonds's home an hour later in the CBI SUV, while Cho followed in the familiar blue Citroen. It now lacked a tail pipe, so it could probably be heard in the next county. Jane came down the steps at a near run only to stand and stare at the damaged rear end of his beloved car. His hand went first to his forehead, then covered his mouth in horror as Cho disembarked to stand by him while he assessed the damage.

"It looks worse than it is," said Cho, trying in his inimitable way to console him.

"What? How?" Jane gestured helplessly at the Citroen. "It's buckled up like a goddamn accordion!"

Lisbon moved sheepishly beside him. "I'm really sorry, but it wasn't my fault, I swear. That stupid CHP car was following way too close…"

"Boss," Van Pelt began tentatively, taking her place with the team. "Excuse me, but I thought you'd like to know Clive Edmonds was transported to Colusa Regional. He's got a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and he needs ten stitches in his chin. You really tore him up," she finished with admiration.

Lisbon only had eyes for Jane, who was now circling the car in dismay. His hands lovingly coasted down the the sides of the vehicle, then the hood, as if searching for additional injuries. Every once in awhile he'd make a strange humming noise, almost like he was crooning to a baby.

"I know a guy who can fix that," Rigsby told Jane helpfully.

"Thanks, Van Pelt," Lisbon finally replied. "Edmonds's accomplice is locked in the bathroom. You, Rigsby and Cho—go let him out. Keep back from the door when you do, all weapons at the ready. This guy is a monster. Jane," she called. "You have the key?"

He handed it absently to Cho.

"Nice dress," said Cho to Lisbon, before pulling out his sidearm and heading for the house.

"Yeah," Rigsby concurred in passing. "My grandmother has one just like it."

Lisbon's eyes narrowed, unsure whether the men meant to be insulting. "It's not mine," she said defensively, but they were already inside the front door.

"Men," Van Pelt said, rolling her eyes. She followed after her colleagues to obey her boss's command.

Jane was standing again behind the Citroen, seemingly calculating the cost of the damages. She touched his arm.

"Look, I'll pay to have this fixed," she said, mentally calculating in her own mind whether she'd really be able to afford such an offer.

"That's all right, Lisbon," he said on a sigh. "Insurance should pay. I've got full coverage."

"On this thing?" she truly didn't intend to sound so incredulous; it had just slipped out.

"Yes, of course," he said defensively. "It's a classic."

The sound of the team yelling, scuffling, and ordering Ray about interrupted them, and a few minutes later, they emerged with the struggling giant, securely handcuffed, Cho and Rigsby on either side of him. Van Pelt brought up the rear, her gun at his back. Lisbon noted that Rigsby was rubbing his reddened jaw with one hand.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Gigantor here clipped me."

"Told ya," Lisbon said, trying to hide her amusement. She thought it was Karma after that grandmother remark he'd made earlier. "Read the man his rights."

Captain Adams arrived at the scene just in time to lead Ray to his patrol car, but when Ray caught sight of Jane, he strained against his bonds and his captors, attempting to make a run at the man who'd apparently permanently damaged his love life.

"I oughta kill you, you meddling sonofabitch!"

"Ah ah ah," Jane chided. "You don't need threats of bodily harm added to your long list of charges. You think Ashley is unforgiving—try Judge Hildred."

"I'll show you _bodily harm_—" he began, fighting futilely against Cho's hold. The more diminutive man was nearly as strong as Ray himself, however, and managed to maintain control of the gyrating giant.

"Shut up and get in there," Rigsby said, pushing the big man's head down roughly to shove him in the back of the police car. He slammed the door in childish satisfaction.

"I found your other dress in the bathroom," said Van Pelt softly near Lisbon's ear.

She nodded in gratitude, repossessing the more tasteful black garment.

"Thanks, but I suppose Mama Edmonds's dress is actually more appropriate for court. Hopefully I'll get a chance to stop and get something else to wear on the way to San Francisco."

"Lisbon—" Jane began, his attention falling away from his damaged vehicle.

"I called the DA in San Francisco. He's asking the judge to postpone Bonnie's hearing until I get there."

"You're not seriously going to speak for her," Jane asked in disbelief.

"I'm thinking of the baby," she said quietly. "With both his parents in prison, who'd take care of him? Society doesn't need another child possibly lost in the system."

"Maybe Bonnie's husband might take him," Jane suggested.

"Another man's child?" Lisbon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Doubtful."

The team looked at each other in confusion. All they knew was Lisbon and Jane had been held against their will by the guy Jane had paid to go out with her.

"I'll explain everything later, I promise," said Lisbon to her team. "So, who's taking me to San Francisco?"

Jane grinned suddenly, shaking his head at this kindhearted woman, who was willing to go to bat for a child she didn't even know. A swell of emotion that he was unwilling to identify filled his heart.

"I'll take you," said Jane softly.

Lisbon looked dubiously at Jane's half-wrecked car. "You think it will make it?"

"She's nothing if not resilient, Lisbon. She won't purr as sweetly as she usually does, but I'll get you there."

"You need backup, Boss?" asked Rigsby, equally worried about the safety of her transportation.

"Nah, thanks, guys. But I think Jane can handle it. Besides," she smirked, "he owes me. See you back at HQ."

Jane opened the passenger door for her, then got behind the wheel. He started the engine, cringing at the monstrous racket coming from the rear.

"I think we're even now," he told her in annoyance as he drove away. As they pulled out of sight of the others, Lisbon put her hand on his thigh. He glanced down at her caress, then back up to her shining eyes.

"Is there nothing I can do to make this up to you later?" she asked enticingly.

A sensual grin slowly spread across his face. "It's a long drive to San Francisco," he told her. "I'll probably think of something."

A/N: One more chapter to go! Hope you liked this installment. Please be so kind as to let me know what you think!


	10. Conclusion and Epilogue

A/N: I had hoped to get this final chapter up sooner, but I dealt with a little writer's block and dissatisfaction with the route I was taking. I actually had Lisbon having a pregnancy scare for a while, lol, but came thankfully to my senses and deleted that trite nonsense. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this conclusion and epilogue. Be advised that midway through, it veers unmistakably into "M" territory.

**Chapter 10: Conclusion**

Jane and Lisbon sat inside Jane's partially wrecked car in the parking lot of the San Francisco courthouse.

"Bonnie's out on bail now," Lisbon marveled, smoothing down the chocolate brown skirt Jane had bought for her from a department store in record time. In a rare display of vanity, she'd refused to go to court in the ghastly dress of an old woman. She'd had no money, so had to suffer the embarrassment of borrowing from Jane, and she'd grabbed the first skirt suit she'd seen in her size, found a plain white blouse, and a change of undergarments. Jane had plopped down his credit card in amusement while she promised over and over she'd pay him back. She hated being in debt to anyone, despite Jane's insistence that it was his pleasure to play the role of sugar daddy. This remark had almost earned him a punch in the nose.

"Glad I've kept in touch with the DA from my old SFPD days," she continued now. "He owed me one. The trial is up to Bonnie though. Nothing else I can do there since I wasn't a witness to what she did to her husband."

"But at least she'll be with the baby from now and throughout the trial."

"I think the DA will go easy on her. She seemed like a nice enough person, caught up in this unfortunate madness. Torn between two ghastly men."

"It happens," Jane said simply. He reached across the seat for her hand. "You were great in there. I love it when you are so…impassioned." He smiled a little, delighting in her modest little blush.

"A child needs their mother," she said, no doubt thinking of her own childhood. Jane imagined the gangly, lost little girl she must have been, motherless, then fatherless, and his heart broke a little for her. He brought her hand to his lips.

"You did a good thing, Lisbon."

"I hope so." She looked into his eyes now, and thoughts of Bonnie, her baby and Clive fled from her mind. They were free of it all, until they had to testify at Clive's trial, anyway, and both of them suddenly wondered where that left the two of them. Would this new relationship of theirs continue? _Should_ it?

"You ready?" Jane asked her, and for a moment she wondered if he were reading her mind, asking if she were ready for this relationship.

"Yes," she replied, and she realized she meant yes to both, although she was afraid just yet to tell him so. "Let's go home," she said instead.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane awoke in his bed the next morning a changed man. For one thing, he had slept the whole night through for the first time in years (without drugs), and for another, he actually felt…happy. All of this, of course, was due to the petite woman who lay naked beside him on her stomach, her breath in sleep deep and even, her hair completely covering the half of her face not resting against his pillow. He smiled tenderly, brushing the silky hair gently back that she might breathe more easily.

They'd spent two hours in debriefing at CBI headquarters the afternoon before, and the rest of the team had thankfully not mentioned that Jane had paid Clive to go out with Lisbon in the first place. They'd kept to the simplified story—as worked out on the way back to Sacramento—that Jane and Lisbon had set each other up on double blind-dates, that when Clive had found out Lisbon was with the CBI, he'd decided to coerce her into testifying for his lover. They'd realized he was up to something, so they'd put a wire on Lisbon to find out. Minnelli had not been happy about that, nor had the FBI agent who had sat in because Clive was being charged with kidnapping.

Cho had already been concerned after he'd received a call that morning from the restaurant that Lisbon's purse (containing her badge and cell phone but missing her gun) had been left there, so he and Rigsby had gone to the scene, checked out the restaurant's security cameras, and found Lisbon's discarded wire in the alley. Unfortunately, no cameras had been directed at the alley, but the street cams had caught them obviously being forced by Clive to go to Jane's car, although no area cameras filmed what actually happened once they'd gotten to it. Clive's car had been discovered abandoned in the restaurant parking lot, confirming Cho's suspicions that Lisbon and Jane had been abducted. It was then that Cho had informed Minnelli of the situation.

Jane, of course, had saved them a load of detective work by managing to call Cho, and the rest had quickly fallen into place. Since nothing had actually been recorded, the FBI agent had dropped the matter of Lisbon being wired without a warrant. Jane had suggested they go out for Chinese food to celebrate. It had ended up being a take-out meal which they'd eaten at Jane's hotel room. Considering all they'd been through, Minnelli had given them both the next day off, and they'd celebrated their free time, full bellies and safe return by a mad tumble amidst discarded napkins and broken fortune cookies.

Now, as Jane looked at the length of her naked back revealed by the slipping sheet, he couldn't resist following the line of her spine with open-mouthed kisses He began at her waist, moving delicately up to the nape of her neck. Lisbon came awake with a little moan of pleasure, as Jane moved over her back, his chest pressing hers further into the mattress. He was much heavier than she, but Lisbon found his weight pleasantly sensual. She squirmed beneath him, feeling at once the firmness of his desire against her bottom, the warmth of his hands as they glided up and down her sides, the heat of his lips as he kissed her beneath her hair.

"Good morning," he breathed close to her ear. She shivered in response and sighed at the incredible sensation.

"Morning," came her muffled reply.

"You know," he continued in a whisper, "sleeping on your stomach is a horrible habit. It can exacerbate the tension you already have in your neck, plus-" and he kissed the sensitive spot beneath her ear—"it can cause wrinkles."

He heard her soft laughter, a little breathless from the weight of his body.

"Your concern for my health is touching," she said into the pillow.

"I'm always looking out for you, Lisbon. There is, however, one obvious benefit to your current position."

"Oh?" she inquired in amusement, and she heard the now familiar sound of the bedside table drawer opening.

She wriggled her bottom playfully against him then, and she heard his answering gasp, then low chuckle at her teasing antics. His hands drifted down to her waist to still her, and he moaned as she opened her knees encouragingly. Lisbon felt him move his body lower, dip his hips, and enter her slowly from behind. She trembled with barely contained pleasure.

"Oh," she said again, this time on a shaky sigh.

As he glided lazily in and out of her body, his chest caressed her shapely back, and she reveled in the indescribable bliss of being filled completely, of having him so close she could feel each shallow breath he expelled against her skin, feel the slick perspiration of his body mingling with hers.

"Teresa," he whispered, the word shivering along her spine as he brought her to a place of pure feeling.

The pressure built inside of her, and she clenched around him with each stroke, until, with a primal groan, he rose upon his knees, pulling her hips almost roughly off the bed. He plunged into her even more deeply, and she cried out as he took her over and over again, her palms braced against the headboard. When he reached around to touch her most sensitive spot, she cried out her release. She felt him teeter on the edge in reaction to her convulsing internal muscles, and it wasn't long until he went over himself, calling her name again as he fell.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Work will be weird," Lisbon said later, as she lay curled against him.

"Will it? It doesn't have to be."

"I'm pretty sure there is a rule against team members having romantic relationships."

"I'm a consultant though," he reasoned, kissing the top of her head where it lay nestled beneath his shoulder. "Besides, I'm pretty sure everyone has figured out something new has happened between us. No use trying to hide it."

She turned to her stomach so she could look at his face. In the aftermath of their passion it looked as if ten years had fallen away from him, and his blonde curls were endearingly disheveled. He looked sexy and relaxed and well-loved. She found that she wanted him again, but as much as she wanted to avoid this conversation by climbing on top of him and letting her body take over, she knew they had to work this out now, before either of them dug themselves in any deeper.

She blushed a little at his words. "True. It also didn't help things that you couldn't seem to keep your hands to yourself yesterday at HQ. Attacking me in bathrooms has got to stop."

He grinned, the smile breaking over his features like the sun. "I locked the door," he said in his own defense. "I don't know, Lisbon, I've suddenly developed a strange fetish where commodes are concerned."

She gave him a stern look, to which he just grinned all the wider.

"I promise to be more professional. I just feel very…proprietary toward you. I don't foresee that going away."

"Really?"

He knew what she was asking. "That's the heart of all of this, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, her fingertips absently touching his stubbly cheeks.

"You're wondering if I'm ready to be in a relationship. You're afraid of what might happen at work if things go sour. You're thinking, how could we possibly work together with all this sexual tension between us?"

She raised an eyebrow at how accurately he'd read her, but she was also gratified that they seemed to be on the same page with regard to the important questions.

"What are your answers, oh Great Swami?"

He ignored the barb and answered her seriously. "Yes, I'm ready. But I won't sugar coat it, Teresa; I'm scared to death. I'll probably have some anxiety, and set-backs, and feelings of guilt from time to time. I'm not a hundred percent emotionally speaking, but I think I could get there, if you're there to help me, that is."

"Yes," she said, stretching up to kiss him softly. "I'll do my best."

He smiled a little, and went on to question two. "I want you to know, Lisbon, that no matter what happens, we'll always be friends. As painful as it might be to lose this, I'm still on a quest, still here to help make up for my past mistakes. I'm still gonna need you for that. But I want to be optimistic about us. I think we good be okay."

"And if one or both of us gets fired for this?"

"Leave Minnelli to me. I'll scour the rule books to find some way for this to work in the eyes of the CBI. You know how good I am at manipulation. And if worse comes to worst, I'll hypnotize everyone to look the other way whenever I have the urge to kiss you—"

"Which you absolutely won't do on the job—"

He shrugged. "Whatever you say, Lisbon." He'd leave that debate for later. "As for your third concern—I've kept my true feelings for you buried for five years, Lisbon. I can behave at the office. If not, see the addendum above—mass hypnosis can really come in handy."

Her finger traced his full bottom lip as it stretched into a grin, and her own mouth formed a moue of surprise.

"Five years? Really? You've thought of me—of _us_—like _this_?"

"I've been sinking in the pit of anger, depression, and self-loathing; I haven't been completely dead. I've resisted you for many reasons, not the least of which was my preoccupation with other things. But I've always wanted you Teresa. There's no doubt about that. It just wasn't right before."

"And you think it's right now?"

He nodded solemnly. "So now, the real question is, can _you _handle this—handle _me_?" he asked her. He was momentarily afraid of her answer, despite his strong new desire to see the glass half full.

"If you can understand how really important my concerns are about us continuing, if you realize that I'm still gonna gripe and complain for the stupid, reckless things you do…Our working relationship has got to remain separate from the personal as much as possible. At the CBI, I'm your boss, remember?"

He looked at her blankly, having never actually thought of her in that light before. She'd been more of a close colleague in his mind, but it wouldn't hurt to continue to let her think that.

"Okay, so long as I'm the boss in bed," he bargained with a smirk.

Next thing Jane knew, she was on top of him, pinning his wrists down, her knee hovering in the vicinity of his most sensitive area. "You want to rephrase that, Jane?"

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's only fair…we can't _both_ be the boss."

Her knee brushed firmly against his hot flesh. His eyes widened, and he swallowed with what, given recent events, seemed to be genuine fear. If she were to exert just a little more pressure…

"Partners?" he amended.

She smiled in satisfaction. "That's more like it," she said, lowering her knee and kissing him until they were both breathless. If she'd have asked anything else of him in that moment, he would have gladly said yes. Wisely, however, he didn't mention that fact to her.

That was something she'd just have to figure out on her own.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Epilogue**

_Two weeks later…_

The old-fashioned tinkling of a bell alerted the shopkeeper that a new customer had entered the establishment. Jane paused just inside the door, surveying the enticing wares on display inside Southern Belle's Lingerie. He inhaled the seductive fragrance of pink roses, and grinned as the tall, blonde proprietress approached him in surprise.

"Why, Patrick," Amy said, in that soft drawl that put him in mind of lazy summer evenings with a glass of smooth whiskey. "What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here to my little corner of the world?" She took his hand and leaned forward, kissing his cheek in welcome.

"I've come to buy a gift, but I've also come to see how you were doing."

He gave her an understanding smile, which she knew to mean he was asking if she'd recovered from their double date.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. I was sorry at first that I didn't hear from you, but since that night, I finally agreed to go out with the handsome senator I see every morning at the coffee shop next door. He'd been asking me to join him for coffee for months now, and our little blind date gave me the confidence to finally say yes. We've had two dates already," she said, blushing prettily.

He squeezed her hand. "Good for you, Amy," he said sincerely. He politely dropped her hand.

"I heard about Clive, that bastard," she told him, her voice lowering in deference to the two ladies browsing through the panty display. "I had a bad feeling about that rat from the moment I laid eyes on him. He was too slick by far, a real con man. Sorry for what you and Teresa went through with that trash."

Jane managed to cringe only a little at the reminder of his responsibility for that particular mess. "Yeah, he was a real bastard all right."

"But from what I hear, something good came of that situation." Her eyes sparkled knowingly.

"Yes," Jane grinned. "It certainly did. I take it you've spoken to Teresa recently."

"I sure did, about a week ago. She said something about being head over heels in love with a certain consultant she works with. She says the two of you are deliriously happy. Well, I for one am over the moon for you both…Patrick?"

His face had frozen in what appeared to be shock, or at the very least, intense surprise. He and Lisbon had spent an incredible two weeks, making love most every night, coming into work with a new passion for the job. They'd solved two tough cases, one right after another, their new connection outside the CBI seeming to only enhance how well they worked together in the field. But never once had either of them mentioned anything about love.

"Oh, dear Lord," Amy exclaimed softly, her hands going to her cheeks in mortification. "I've spoken out of turn. Teresa didn't act like it was a secret. She seemed so open about it, like it was common knowledge. Please, forget I said anything."

His expression was full of awe, and Jane felt his heart leap, then gallop within his chest. _She loved him?_

"Patrick? Are you okay?"

Jane snapped out of his daze and put on his trademark grin of nonchalance.

"Uh…yeah. Don't worry about it." He waved a dismissive hand. "You're right; it's really no secret. However, I do need to ask that you keep my visit here a secret, at least until I have a chance to give Lisbon the gift you help me pick out."

Amy looked at him worriedly, but her southern manners kept her from prying. She put on a smile of her own.

"You have something special in mind? We just got in some lovely penoirs, and Teresa is quite partial to red lace, if you recall."

"Yes," he said, his eyes bright with unspoken emotion. "So am I, as a matter of fact."

**The End**

Thanks so much for your support of this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I'll likely continue on my season 3 series next, carrying it into the events of season 4. Also, I hope to keep writing tags, so please put me on author alert so you can catch any new fics I write. Thanks again! And I'll see you for this week's tag very soon!

Oh, **P.S.**: I was disappointed to learn Simon Baker's new film "Margin Call," won't be out in the movie theatres in wide release, despite the great reviews it's received. You can actually rent it right now at Amazon (do a search) and watch it directly on your computer or TV if you have that capability. Or, it will be available on DVD in December. I'm off to download it…


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